The Dreamers
by Catsafari
Summary: *Christmas Special 2014* In the darkness, a new threat rises from the old and Pitch's legacy lives on in unexpected places. Meanwhile, all Haru wanted was a quiet Christmas. She should have known better. SEQUEL/CROSSOVER.
1. Monday 1st December

**A/N: For those of you from **_**The Cat Returns**_** fandom, you will be well acquainted with myself and my Christmas Specials. For those of you who reside mostly in **_**The Rise of the Guardians**_**, I suppose an introduction and explanation is in order.**

**I am Catsafari and for the past three years – with varying success – I have written a Christmas Special for **_**The Cat Returns**_**. I have never written for **_**The Rise of the Guardians**_**, but I have loved it since its creation and I hope to keep the characters as true as possible. I have also researched the books, so some **_**RotG**_** elements don't come straight from the film. And, as usual, the normal "rules" apply.**

**Firstly, each chapter will be set on its respective day... more or less (so today's chapter occurs on 1****st**** December) and I will be posting a chapter a day, over a period of 25 chapters. So think of this as an advent calendar of sorts (except you're opening a webpage instead of a window and you don't get chocolate... Am I really selling this?)**

**Anyway, enough blathering – on with the story! I now present the first Christmas Special Crossover, 2014, **_**The Cat Returns**_** meets **_**The Rise of the Guardians: The Dreamers**_**!**

**Merry Christmas,**

**Cat.**

**ooOoo**

_Nightlight, bright light,_

_Sweet dreams I bestow._

_Sleep tight, all night,_

_Forever I will glow._

x

Monday 1st December 2014

Kasumi Tomoko awoke to the sound of something scuffling across her bedroom floor. It was the kind of scuffle that was trying not to scuffle at all, but was perfectly audible in the silent house.

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse... all except for the scuffling.

Kasumi shifted and the bed squeaked. The scuffling noise stopped and suddenly her shallow breathing was the only sound her pounding ears could hear. She should have kept her nightlight; so what if she was six-and-three-quarters and the other girls had laughed at her? While she was, in her own opinion, grown up and well on her way to adulthood, it didn't stop the monsters from coming.

She curled further into her bed and pointedly tucked her wayward feet back under the covers.

The scuffling changed to a slithering and Kasumi's breath hitched. Light from the streetlamps outside cut through the gap between curtain and wall, and thin rays of light slit through the room.

The light flickered and a shadow shifted.

Kasumi gasped, and the shadow moved. Something indistinct was outlined by the weak tendrils of light and now it turned to her. Bright red eyes fixed on her and the shape twisted closer. She pushed herself away.

Long, spindly fingers brushed against her cheek.

Kasumi recoiled and her short arms reached blindly for her bedside table. Her hand scrambled over the surface and scrabbled for her light. Instead, her fingers found her clock and they slammed down on the alarm button.

The clock blared into life, beeping its little electric heart out and shattering the midnight silence. The shadow flinched away and then turned back towards the child. The eyes still glowed, but now white teeth also smiled through the darkness. The grin widened and long, fang-like incisors hissed a narrow breath onto Kasumi's tiny face.

The bedroom door slammed open and the hallway light flooded in. A woman stood in the opening, iron fireplace poker gripped between hands and idly tapping against the carpet. Her gaze passed over the shadow and a definite grimace set itself across her features.

"Oh, not again..."

The poker swung through the air and smacked sharply into the creature's side. It gave an inhuman, eerie cry and withdrew. The woman slammed her makeshift weapon into it again and it scrambled away. Its long fingers reached for the window and slipped between the tiny gap in the framing.

Haru Yoshioka tucked the fire poker under her arm and brushed the remnant soot from her palms. "Yeah, run; see how much you like it when the roles are reversed," she growled. She turned back to her charge and smiled. "I think I'm getting quicker. Five seconds from the lounge to here – that's got to be a personal best."

Kasumi crawled out from beneath her blankets and craned her head towards the window. "Is it gone?"

"For now." Haru took a perch on the edge of the girl's bed and finally switched the bedside lamp on. The room flickered into sharp relief and all evidence of the shadow was gone; Kasumi might have even thought it to be all a dream if her godmother hadn't still had the fire poker under one arm.

Haru gently smiled down at her babysitting charge with overt affection and ruffled Kasumi's dark locks. "You can sleep now, kiddo. I'll be right outside if it comes back." She picked up a thin blanket where it had dropped from the bed and carefully covered the lamp's light. The room faded into gentle gloom, dropping its colour into soft black-and-white outlines. "Remember, they can't hurt you."

"I know," Kasumi whispered, "but they still scare me..."

Haru kissed her goddaughter's head. "That's all they can do, sweetheart. They're just bad dreams."

ooOoo

"So how were the kids?" Hiromi Tomoko swung into the house, one orange polka-dotted umbrella swung over her shoulder to ward off the bitterly cold sleet and an equally-blindly suitcase dragging behind. "Did they behave?"

Her husband, Tsuge Tomoko followed after, a much larger and wind-resistant umbrella spread above him. He shook the worst of the rain off and snapped it closed. "Did Kasumi sleep?" he asked instead.

"More nightmares, I'm afraid," Haru answered.

"Did she start ranting about monsters again?" Hiromi sighed.

Her friend merely gave a non-committal shrug.

"We've been trying to tell her that there aren't any, but she's adamant something's there." Hiromi groaned and ran a stressed hand through her hair. Her fingers dug into the light locks and the woman pulled her head back in an exhausted sigh. "We do room checks, to try to make her feel better, but she still keeps on screaming the place down. Chika said that her kid has stopped sleeping properly too..."

"A lot of children seem to be struggling at the moment," Haru agreed.

"Do you think it's some sort of illness?" her friend asked, paling. "A virus or bug or something? They had their vaccines last month – perhaps it's some sort of side-effect–"

"I doubt it," the other woman answered flatly before her friend could break down into a round of dramatic paranoia. "Look, Hiromi, it's probably just the time of year. It's dark, it's cold, and some kids just get tired from a term at school after several months of summer. I wouldn't worry."

"You work with kids, Haru," Tsuge said. "What would you suggest we do?"

"Put her nightlight back in–"

"She said she didn't want it."

"I have a feeling she'll want it now. Perhaps let Missy sleep with her – some kids sleep better with a pet. It makes them feel safer. Listen, I know Kasumi's nightmares might seem small, but they're real to her. She needs all the comforting she can get."

"And Michi?" Hiromi asked, referring to her three-year-old son. "Was he okay?"

"He was fine. Why?" Haru frowned. "Has he been waking up too?"

"He's been sleeping but... roughly."

Haru made a mental note to check on the youngest Tomoko next time she called round. She pulled on her jacket and slung her bag over one shoulder. Her old school friend caught her.

"Hey, Haru... are you leaving so soon? We might at least offer a drink before you go. Tea? Coffee?"

"Can't, I'm sorry."

"I thought today was a bank holiday or teacher training day or something?" Hiromi cut in, frowning. "You don't have to work today, surely?"

"No, but I need to meet up with a couple of friends this morning. Another time."

"Actually, we were also hoping to bribe you into another babysitting job," Tsuge admitted with a guilty chuckle. "We're going to be out-of-town on Wednesday night and need someone to look after the kids until Thursday morning."

"Sure, I can do that." Haru grinned and slipped into her shoes. "You don't need to bribe me for that. Anything to spend a night looking after the cutest Tomokos around."

Hiromi pouted. "I thought I was the cutest Tomoko."

The other woman rolled her eyes. "You're adorable, Hiromi. Happy?"

"Not really."

Haru hugged her friend and started out. "I haven't got the time to fan your ego, Hiromi. Ask Tsuge instead." She winked and disappeared into the sleeting rain. She pulled her hood over her head and pushed on to the Crossroads. The plaza was busy with the bustle of stalls already preparing for the Christmas season, even with the chill of winter rain sleeting across the air. She moved through the crowds, head down until she passed clear through the square.

The rain intensified, and Haru pulled her hood further over her head. She moved more on instinctive habit along the road and down a side path, edging along the side to gleam what little protection she could from the alley walls. Even so, as she reached her destination, the rain had been more than thorough and the cold ran through her.

She stepped past a stone archway and the weather cleared. She sighed and pushed back her hood. Her short brunette hair now stuck at odd angles, the rain running down her face and curving along her cheeks. She shivered and ran a hand quickly through her hair, shaking out the worst of the rain.

The weather hadn't been the only thing to change when she moved through the archway – although the sleeting weather could still be seen beyond – for upon entering, magic had seeped into her bones and shrunk her down to a mere foot in height. Far too small for ordinary life, but the perfect size for the miniature houses that surrounded the cobbled courtyard. A tiny collection of houses circled out from where the archway opened up, centred by a stone pillar topped with a gargoyle crow.

As if right at home in the strange little world tucked away on the edge of the human city, Haru swept the pooling rain off her jacket and entered one of the miniature buildings. A little smaller than all the rest, it was white-washed with green trimmings and marked by a double door. But if the world was strange, its occupants were even stranger.

"Good morning, Haru."

"Morning."

The owner of the house turned to the brunette as she entered. His green eyes moved over the soaked form of the young woman as she collapsed into an armchair, sighing and teasing out the remaining drips of water hanging into her dark hair. He finished with the kettle and brought a cup to her. "You look like you could do with some tea."

"Do I really look that bad?"

"You look like a drowned rat, Chicky." A large white cat, taking up most of the sofa, grinned at the newcomer. "Is it raining outside, perhaps?"

"You think you're so clever, Muta." Haru made a face at the cat and took the tea from the other occupant. "Thanks, Baron."

"You're welcome." Baron – his full name being Baron Humbert von Gikkingen – was undeniably the strangest occupant of the Refuge. Originally a wooden, half-feline figurine, his artisan had brought him to life many, many years ago upon creating him. Haru had never asked the finer points of this– but it was hard to contest this when Baron was only a foot high, orange-furred, and impeccably dressed.

The cat Creation took the other armchair, his own cup of tea balanced between his gloves. "Are you sure I can't interest you in a drink, Muta?"

The fat white cat – Renaldo Moon, but Muta to anyone who knew him – snorted and leant further back into the sofa. The furniture groaned under his weight and sagged further. "Nah. You're not getting me near that boiled grass."

"You should know by now, Baron, that the fatso will never appreciate something as sophisticated as tea." The final occupant of the Bureau landed on the balcony railings and peered down at the inhabitants through beady eyes. Like Baron, he was a Creation, but as a stone crow in his original form, and took far too much delight out of mocking the fatter feline there.

"At least I don't eat worms!"

Haru passed a tired hand over her face and glanced to Baron. "They've got to get new insults," she sighed. "I wouldn't mind it if they had something new to throw at each other once in a while."

"Something that didn't include the Bureau plant pots," Baron agreed. In the background, Toto and Muta's argument rose in volume and old insults rose anew.

"Or the good tea set."

"Or second-best tea set."

"Although I wasn't expecting the kettle to bounce quite like that..." Haru mused.

"I was impressed with the speed at which you ducked." He smiled and, with a quick sip of his own blend of tea, moved the conversation on. "So what brings you here under such dire weather conditions? If you don't mind me saying so, it looks like you've walked through a small tsunami to reach us."

"Close enough." As Haru self-consciously tried to right the wrong that the storm had wrecked upon her hair, she sobered. "And I came here because I looked after Hiromi's kids last night." The hand running through her short hair slowed and then tightened its grip around the dark locks. "The fearlings are getting stronger."

Baron steadily met Haru's gaze and then slowly lowered his cup and saucer. "Are you sure?"

"Well, I don't know about stronger," Haru admitted, "but they're certainly more confident now. This one was nearly close enough to touch Kasumi – I thought you said they just scared kids," she added, a tad accusingly.

"Fearlings merely feed on the fear of children–"

"You say merely," she muttered.

"–and so they have no reason to cause any real harm to them," Baron finished, smoothly ignoring Haru's side comment.

"You didn't see it, Baron."

"No."

"I did." Haru hesitated. "I did... Why can I see them? As far as I can tell, only the kids can."

"In most circumstances, only children are able to see fearlings," Baron confirmed, "but due to your time with us, you are now able to see what most adults cannot. However, fearlings have a preference for feeding off the nightmares of children, and so you are unlikely to see such creatures in your own home." The half-feline paused and picked up his tea again. "However, if you are right and the fearlings are becoming bolder..."

"Yes?" Haru prompted. "Then what?"

He looked to her. "I don't know."

"Funnily enough, that doesn't fill me with confidence. What if the fearlings are becoming dangerous? What if one does go for Kasumi or Michi?"

"That won't happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"There are guardians out there to keep the darkness at bay."

**ooOoo**

**A/N: With the Christmas spirit well underway, I'm sure many of you would love to see some seasonal HaruxBaron fluff and... well, this story will probably have more plotline and less fluff. **

**If you **_**are**_** looking for some HaruxBaron sweetness, then I'd suggest looking up the Tumblr accounts of ****creatxn**** and ****haruxyoshioka**** who roleplay as Baron and Haru respectively. (Merry Christmas, guys!) They're always on the lookout for other roleplayers (I'm sure they'd love a Muta or Toto) and they're uncannily good! **

**Seriously, if you're on Tumblr and you need more TCR on your dash to brighten your day, follow them. They have different 'verses (AUs), including a HP one (v:barons and broomsticks), a dark!Baron verse (v:blight), as well as more canon verses, so you're sure to find one to your liking. (I, myself, am obviously a veritable sucker for the dark!Baron verse...)**

**Until tomorrow. **

**Cat.**


	2. Tuesday 2nd December

_"We go by many names, and taken many forms. We bring wonder and hope, we bring joy and dreams. We are the Sandman and the Tooth Fairy, we are the Easter Bunny and Santa. And our powers are greater than you could ever imagine…"_

North.

x

Tuesday 2nd December 2014

For many years, the icy wasteland of the North Pole had been left to its own devices by the growing expanse of humanity, sheltered from prying eyes by the harsh conditions that buffered back curiosity. But with expanse and the ever advancing march of technology, humanity had grown bolder. First, people began to explore further into the snowy plains, and then – once a single expedition had succeeded – more had trailed further and further inland.

But for all its traipsing, and technology, and consuming curiosity, humanity had always managed to oversee the wintery palace located at the top of the world. A mixture of magic, luck, and the occasional yeti, had kept them at bay, and so Christmas continued to be run with a little bit of extra magic, courtesy of Nicholas St. North.

Better known as Father Christmas. Or Santa Claus. There were many names he went by.

But, to his friends, he was simply North.

The palace was the heart of the toy-making business, most of the building devoted to an open-plan workshop alive with the whirr and whoosh and music of toys being made and tested. Yetis dominated the workforce, mostly 'helped' by the small-minded, big-hearted elves who were always intent on lending their charmingly unhelpful help wherever they could.

One yeti was meticulously painting a miniature army of robot toys, furry brows knitted together in concentration, when a couple of the drying toys started to rattle. The eyebrows disconnected and he rumbled something unintelligible at the robots. The brows fell back together and he looked round to the elves who had been trying to help for the past half hour. He gave an admonishing rumble.

The elves – one of which was eating his way through a stolen candy cane, and the other which was trying to nick it off him – shrugged and returned to the matter of the sweet.

The yeti grumbled and continued on with his work. Someone had to do it, after all.

The toys rattled again, and this time a couple actually stuttered into mechanical life. The yeti snapped his head up and glared daggers at the nearby elves. He fired a selection of rumbling accusations and pointed back to the toys.

The elves looked to each other and, deciding that neither of them had anything to do with it, shrugged again. With a spurt of characteristic short-attention, the second elf went for its neighbour's candy cane and both went running off on their small legs.

The yeti mumbled beneath his breath and carefully pushed the wayward toys back into line. They shuddered into anew fever and the yeti jolted back. He tapped a passing co-worker and gestured to the toys with the rumble of yeti language.

The second yeti rumbled back and prodded the mischievous toy. It silenced at the contact and the yeti gave a sound that carried the tones of _I told you so_.

A second passed, and the toy geared back into mechanical action, shifting its wound joints through the motions that it had been built to follow. Its neighbour started up... and then the row... and then the entire block.

The first yeti abruptly rose to his feet and returned the _I told you so_ sentiment in force, with the addition of what sounded suspiciously like yeti cussing. The second rumbled back similar shock and started to smack at the drying toys. The former grabbed his comrade's arm and tried to tug him back with evident distress.

A shadow rose up from the toys and slithered along the bench, startling similar toys into life and prompting more yetis into shock. After avoiding several sharp hits from the creatures, the shadow rose up and escaped through a slither of a gap in a window.

Yetis do not survive through the harsh winters of the North Pole without consequence; they are naturally hardy creatures, and so upon the shadow's disappearance, they started to gather themselves and continue on their work. Christmas was, after all, less than a month away.

The yeti that had been working on the robots collected up the fallen toys and carefully positioned them back into place, while the second yeti went hurrying to tell the owner of the palace.

Nicholas St. North.

ooOoo

"If this is another '_feeling in belly'_, North..." E. Aster Bunnymund – known to many as simply the Easter Bunny – hopped out of the rabbit hole and rose to his full height. While childhood stories had often portrayed him as a small ball of fluff and cuteness, only the fluff aspect bore true.

North waved away the rabbit's worries. "You think I would call alarm this close to Christmas?"

"All I'm saying," Bunnymund returned, sitting back on his haunches and slipping into a thicker Australian accent, "is that this wouldn't be the first time you cried wolf. So what's the barney here?"

"Fearlings!" North cried, emphasising this with an expressive wave of his large hands.

There was a nervous chuckle from across the room, and the sole female Guardian flew forward. "But I thought you said Fearlings couldn't come this far into your territory – if they've made it here, what does that mean?" Toothania, queen of the tooth fairies, asked. "Might they be able to get into the Tooth Palace?"

"Hey, and what about my warren?" Bunnymund added. "Those eggs won't paint themselves, you know."

The fourth and silent member of the Guardians added his own thoughts to the issue with a swirling display of golden dream sand. Mute by nature, Sandy – also known as the Sandman – looked after the dreams of the children, although he sometimes found his silence limiting in the communications department. The dream sand shifted into the form of a tall, thin individual.

Bunnymund scoffed at the suggestion. "Pitch? Come on, he's a goner. Right, North?"

A cold gust of cold air swept into the room and the final Guardian flew in through the workshop window, landing amid his companions. Small tendrils of ice sparked at the contact. "Right. So, what'd I miss?"

"Jack Frost, you are the most irresponsible, lazy, good-for-nothing–"

"Come on, Bunny; is that how you greet an old friend?" The winter spirit pulled back his hood and glanced to the Belief Globe, and then to the other four Guardians. "So, what's up? Did I miss anything important?"

"Oh, nothing much, mate. Just the return of Pitch."

"We do not know that this is Pitch," North quickly cut in.

"Oh, really?" Bunnymund bit back. "And who else do we know who can control the fearlings?"

"Hey, hey, wait up a moment." Jack motioned for the others to slow down. "I'm still out of the loop here. Fearlings – Pitch – what?"

"Don't you know about the fearlings?" Tooth asked.

"I haven't exactly been one of you guys for long," he reminded them. "In case you've forgotten, I didn't have much to do with the Big Four for the first three hundred years of my life. So... what are fearlings? And... about Pitch? Didn't we sorta _defeat_ him last Easter?"

"That's what I said!" Bunnymund agreed.

Tooth ignored the rabbit Guardian and flew over to the restless spirit. "Jack, fearlings are the most basic of Pitch's monsters," she explained softly. "They feed off the fear of children and, for as long as we've known, have never been able to get this deep into Guardian territory."

"So... like weak nightmares?" Jack translated.

"They're the monster under the bed," Bunnymund said. "The shadow in the closet. The thing in the dark. They don't harm the kids, but they can scare them witless."

To illustrate this, Sandy summoned a golden image of a fearling, all teeth and claws with eyes that glowed. Jack recoiled from the outline.

"Alright, I get the picture. So what does this mean?"

"The shadows are stronger during winter," North said.

"Yeah, the darkness makes 'em bolder," Bunnymund clarified. "And they'll continue to do so until the days start to lengthen again. See, you wouldn't have this problem with Easter," he added pointedly to the Christmas spirit.

"This is more than just winter days," North replied. "I feel it–"

"In my belly," the other three Guardians chorused.

North, instead of deflating at his stolen thunder, merely beamed. "Ah. You feel it too?"

"North, I ain't saying that your heart... or belly," Bunnymund amended, "isn't in the right place, but it was just a single fearling."

"And what if Pitch is back?" Tooth demanded. "Look what happened the last time North called us all here."

"Pitch bloody danced across the Belief Globe that time – it's a little bit different to some runaway toys."

"She's got a point, though."

"Hey, you've only just arrived; you don't get an opinion, frosty."

"Did you take all autumn to come up with that one?"

"Enough, boys." Tooth motioned for them to stop. "Sandy's got something to say."

A rather impatient Sandy tipped a momentarily-materialising hat to the fairy, and then turned his attention to all the Guardians. His dream pictures shifted into a fearling again, and then a cage. Sometimes, communicating with the silent Guardian was like playing a game of charades.

This time, however, it didn't take long for the true meaning to be understood.

"He's got a point," Tooth agreed. "Why don't we just capture one and see if anything's changed?"

"Sounds good. I'll do it."

"And why would we leave something like that up to you?" Bunnymund demanded. "You couldn't even turn up on time for this! I didn't realise snow ran on such a busy schedule."

"That's really got your ears in a twist, hasn't it?" Jack returned. "Hey, as we all know from last Easter, my ice is pretty good in a pinch against the darkness." He swung his staff onto his shoulder with a smirk. "I don't remember _you_ taking on Pitch solo."

"Okay." North's gruff tones interrupted Bunnymund's next terse response. "We all did very good last Easter. We all helped. I would go after fearlings myself, but... well, it is December..."

"And as you're so very quick to tell us, Christmas is so very important and busy for you. We know," Bunnymund groaned.

"Look, I'm fast," Jack reminded them. "I'll easily find and capture a fearling."

"He and Sandy _are_ the best at fighting the darkness," Tooth rationalised.

Sandy quickly conjured a series of images that conveyed the message that he was a very busy spirit and had many dreams to manage.

"Looks like it's me then." The winter spirit smirked. "Don't worry – how difficult can this be?"

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Okay, I know, short chapter today. Be aware that I am writing this by the seat of my pants (an official NaNoWriMo term), so my writing is going to be loose and my sanity looser. This was more an introductory chapter for the Guardians, in case you're not familiar with the movie, but – seriously – just go watch it if you haven't already. It's fun, a little crazy, and this story will make a lot more sense if you do. **

**If you don't, then that's your choice, you little rebel. **

**Cat.**


	3. Wednesday 3rd December

_"It is our job to protect the children of the world. For as long as they believe in us, we will guard them with our lives..."_

North.

x

Wednesday 3rd December 2014

In the silence of the night, Jack flew over the city. Midnight had ticked over to the small hours of the morning, and only the steady glow of the streetlamps broke the consuming darkness. But it was a different shadow altogether that he was looking for.

There – beneath a lamppost, the light flickered. Slowing his flight to a steady glide, Jack dropped down towards the street.

"Gotcha..."

The shadow twitched as Jack's bare toes touched the tarmac. There was a flash of red eyes and it slipped away. The guardian broke into a sprint after it. "No... dammit!" He leapt once, twice, and upon the third time, his feet didn't return to the road. He flew.

The shadow slithered away and down an alleyway. Jack bounced off the wall to make the sharp turn and the contact sent sparks of ice spiralling up the bricks. The temperature dropped as the spirit sped through it.

The alley opened up and a quiet residential street came into view. At this time of night, the houses were dark and silent, their windows like blank eyes staring out to the world. The shadow wove its way across the ground and slipped beneath the door of just such a house. Jack slammed into the door, missing the shadow by inches.

"Dammit," he muttered again. He leapt back and surveyed the house. It was a nondescript, average house, but now it had the additional detail of a fearling occupying it. His eyes latched onto the ajar window leading into the lounge. He eased his way through to land softly on the carpet.

A hiss rose from the depths of the room, and Jack raised his staff in defence.

A pair of glittering golden eyes blinked open and glared at the intruder. They shone with the reflected glow of the exterior streetlamps, and suddenly shifted as the owner leapt down from the sofa.

Jack relaxed. Just a cat.

He moved his gaze over the rest of the lounge, now picking out the sleeping form of a young woman – perhaps a friend or babysitter – curled on the sofa from which the cat had just left. Talking of the cat...

Jack nudged the feline away with the end of his staff, pointedly pushing the cat back. Most animals could see the guardians, but cats seemed to take an innate dislike to them – or, at least, to Jack. And Jack could safely say the feeling was mutual.

"Shoo," he whispered. "Scat!"

He gave the cat another prod and it released a scathing hiss. Jack hissed back and then spared a quick glance to the slumbering human. She stirred, but didn't wake. While adults couldn't see him, they could certainly see cats... He knelt down, leaning his staff against his shoulder and rolling his hands over one another. Sparks of cold magic spun between his fingers and the cat paused, mesmerised.

"Yeah... You like that, huh? Then... go fetch!"

The snowball flew through the air and disappeared into the kitchen. The cat chased it in a streak of tabby fur and a cold wind slammed the door shut once the creature was safely inside. Jack snickered and rose back to his feet. "Stupid animal."

Something rattled overhead and Jack glanced to the ceiling. He was quickly reminded of why he had broken in to begin with. Passing his staff back into his hands, he jumped back into the hallway and silently flew up to the first-floor landing. From one of the rooms – the door marked in colourful posters and lettering that denoted a child's bedroom – the lamplight shining through flickered. He dropped back to his feet and gently eased the door open.

Sudden light snapped on and Jack recoiled back. He blinked back the stars circling his vision and picked out the slight form of a young child silhouetted against the light. She still had one hand outstretched on the bedside lamp. Once able, his gaze moved over the rest of the room, but saw no sign of the shadow.

The child – a little girl of six or so years – sat up but didn't move from the bed. From the way she was staring, she was obviously a Believer. Still...

"Peter? Peter Pan?"

That was a first.

Even so, he could work with this. Sometimes you just had to go with what life threw at you. He stepped across the room as his eyes continued to scan for the shadow. "That's right... that's me. Do you remember the story of Peter Pan?"

The little girl nodded tiredly. She wiped the sleepdust out of her eyes with the back of her hand and fought off an encompassing yawn. "Yeah..."

"Good." He knelt down by her bed, prompting a smile from the child. "Good, you've got such a good memory. What's your name?"

"Kasumi," the girl mumbled.

"Well, Kasumi, you see, I've lost my shadow again."

"You've got a shadow," she pointed out, quite contradictory.

"That's my spare shadow. I use it when I lose my normal one – or if it's in the laundry. In fact, I think my shadow came in here – have you seen it?"

Kasumi had retreated to sucking her thumb and no longer seemed too interested in speaking. Her eyes travelled to the cupboard, and around the thumb she mumbled, "Something's in the cupboard. Auntie Haru said I should shout for her if something came in."

"But you don't need to shout now, because I'm here," Jack calmly interjected. If the child started screaming and brought the adult upstairs, the fearling would scarper. "You don't need to be afraid, because I'm going to handle this."

The child eyed the staff with all the scepticism that her six years enabled. The thumb was pulled out. "Auntie Haru uses the poker," she said. The thumb went back in.

Jack raised an eyebrow and decided not to ask. "Let's make this a game, like... _What's The Time, Mister Wolf_ – or _Granny's Footsteps_ – are you familiar with that?"

"If you asked Auntie Haru, she might let you borrow her poker," Kasumi added, not at all worried by the monster hiding in her room.

"I think I'm all set, thanks. But what I need you to do is stay very quiet and very still, otherwise we might scare away my shadow." He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and brought out a glass ball that looked a lot like North's travel globes, except smaller and with a slightly different purpose in mind.

Kasumi shuffled forward, even as Jack motioned for her to stay still. The thumb dropped out of her mouth. "What's that?"

"This will help me catch my shadow," Jack answered.

"Can I hold it?"

"Maybe later." With staff in hand and the globe in the other, he tiptoed across the room – carefully sidestepping the scattering of forgotten toys – and latched the staff's tip around the wardrobe handle. He jarred it open, slamming the door against the hand holding his staff, and in the same moment the fearling fled from the wardrobe.

It ricocheted off the walls and all hell broke loose. As Jack half-leapt, half-flew, Kasumi screamed and there was the thump of someone falling off the downstairs sofa. Well, there went the absence of an adult; he probably had about ten seconds before an irate parent or babysitter burst onto the scene. He rounded before the window, blocking the fearling's immediate route of escape, and jumped after it.

The fearling slithered along the edges of the room, detouring towards the bedroom door, but a sudden blast of cold sent it reeling back. It retreated into the wardrobe and Jack slammed the glass globe on top of it. There was a strange, sucking sound, and the fearling was absorbed into the interior. His moment of triumphant was cut short however by the pounding sound of footsteps bounding up the stairs.

Just what he needed. Non-believers.

The door slammed open and who he presumed to have been the sleeping form on the sofa was now braced in the entrance. Now very awake and very ready.

'_I guess the kid was being serious about the poker._'

Despite the fact he was invisible to adults, Jack leant further back into the shadow of the wardrobe, the globe containing the fearling tucked into the depths of his jacket. The woman's attention was immediately turned to the child in her care, but the fireplace poker wasn't lowered.

"Kasumi? What's wrong? Are the monsters back?"

"No, just a shadow. But it's okay. Peter Pan caught it."

Jack watched a range of emotions, flitting between confusion and general nonplussed silence, dance across the young woman's face. The poker dropped an inch. "Peter... Pan?" she echoed eventually.

"Yeah. Over there." The girl pointed towards the wardrobe where Jack stood, and the woman's gaze followed Kasumi's finger. Jack resisted the urge to grin as the babysitter's eyes moved over him. There was some entertainment to be had around people who were completely oblivious to his existence.

The woman looked back to her young charge. "Kasumi, I don't think that's Peter Pan."

Jack shrugged to the kid. "She can't see me – she can't help it, it's just the way adults are."

The woman turned back to him and Jack only just stopped himself from jumping back. The way she had turned – almost as if she had actually _heard_ him.

Her eyes locked onto his, and he stopped wondering.

"Oh really?"

The twitch of her eyebrow gave him a second's warning. He ducked just as the poker swung through the air he had – moments before – been occupying. He rolled away and flew up to the corner, hands raised in what he hoped was a mollifying gesture. "Listen, lady–"

"No, YOU listen," the woman snarled. The poker was snapped to his direction. Jack scooted back another couple of inches. "Do you know how many monsters – how many _fearlings_ – I've had to chase out of here in the last month? How many kids I've been teaching have complained of monsters scaring them in the night? How many times I've had to beat your kind away? Now it's your turn to receive a fright!"

"Auntie Haru! Auntie Haru!" Kasumi was desperately tugging at the woman's sleeve. "It's okay! He's nice!"

"'_Nice_' doesn't come creeping around at night," the woman snorted.

"But... But... he's Peter Pan! He can fly and everything!"

"Any fool with the right magic can fly."

"And I take it from the fact that your feet remain solidly on the ground that you're no fool," Jack interrupted. It was neither his best comeback, nor his best timing, but luckily he was fast enough to avoid the sharp whack of the poker.

"Don't test me," the woman hissed. "If you are nice, as my goddaughter claims, and I take that to mean you're not a fearling or suchlike, then who – or rather, _what_ – are you?"

Given the fact that the woman stopped trying to beat him to a pulp Jack took this to be a good sign. He swung his staff over one shoulder and, floating in mid-air, crossed his legs. "I think, more to the point, who are you?"

"Don't turn the question on me."

"No, I mean, come on! You're grown – you're an adult–"

"And you're a kid, but I'll still knock you into the next world if you don't start making sense."

"You shouldn't even be able to see me!"

"Occupational hazard," Haru muttered. She was swinging the fireplace poker idly between her fingers, but Jack didn't doubt she would use it again in an instant. "Now, I don't doubt that Peter Pan may exist or have existed at some point, but I highly doubt you're him. What are you...? A spirit of sorts?"

Jack tipped an imaginary hat. "Jack Frost, at your service."

The woman chewed over his words, evidently trying to work out just how much she believed him. Eventually she seemed to come to the decision that she didn't care two tuppance. "Fine. Well then, _Jack Frost_, it's time you were on your way. Someone," she glanced pointedly to Kasumi, "is meant to be sleeping."

"I would, but I can't help noticing that you haven't answered any of my questions–" He dropped down, narrowly avoiding the fireplace poker once again.

"You break into my goddaughter's room, tell her some lie about being Peter Pan, bounce around her room like Frogger on caffeine, _and then_ expect me to be in the answering mood?" Haru snapped. "Are you missing a few snowflakes short of a blizzard or something?"

"I'll take that as a no then."

"Don't get smart with me," she growled with another wield of the poker.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."

"I will use this."

"Don't worry, I can see that." Jack saluted to the child still seated on the bed, although she was craning to see where the spirit floated. "Perhaps I'll see you around, Kasumi."

"I still don't trust you," Haru curtly reminded him. "Out."

"Alright, alright, I'm going! You'd think I'd get a bit more gratitude for catching the fearling that was creeping around here." He started towards the window, swinging it open but watching the woman's attention shift at his last words.

"You caught one?"

"That's what I said, lady."

Something almost akin to a smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "What did you say your name was again?"

He smirked. "Jack Frost." He fell back through the window and, in a flurry of cold winter air, was spirited back up into the sky.

"Auntie Haru...?"

Haru slammed and latched the window down before glancing back to Kasumi. "Yes?"

"He was fun. Why did you scare him off?"

"He's a complication. Worse, he's a complication I know nothing about."

ooOoo

"Since when have adults been able to see us?"

Jack dropped into the chaos of North's workshop with the general air of one quite at home with pandemonium. He saluted to a couple of the yetis he was more familiar with – or, more accurately, who had thrown him out in the past – and descended to North's level. North, however, had other things on his mind.

"Do you have fearling?"

"Course. Did you ever doubt me?" Jack dropped to his feet and followed the larger man to the Globe Room that centred the workshop. He brought out the glass ball, of which the inside was now a swirling depth of black. He tossed it between his hands. "One fearling, as ordered. Now about what I was talking about earlier..."

"Sometimes adults see us," North replied. "If they are sick, or tired, or delusional..."

"I'm not sure you're listening to me." Jack rounded on the man as they entered the Globe Room. "She wasn't sick or delusion – she was ordinary."

North finally took in the winter spirit and seemed momentarily confused. But then he laughed and gave Jack a hearty pat on the back. Jack's heart plummeted. "Maybe you make mistake. Perhaps she was terminally ill – are you sure she saw you?"

"Can't you just believe me? _Yes_, she saw me – she tried to attack me!" There was a familiar snigger from across the room and Jack scowled over to E. Aster Bunnymund – known to most as simply the Easter Bunny. "Can it, Cotton Tail."

"What's the matter, mate? Did a little girl get the better of you?"

"Jack, there are always a couple of exceptions to the rule," Toothania reasoned. "Some of my fairies have had a few close calls in the past. It's rare, but not unheard of." Her hummingbird wings blurred in flight, she turned her attention back to the aforementioned fairies and became engrossed once again with management of the tooth fairies.

To support Tooth's remark, the final Guardian – the Sandman, known to most as simply Sandy – nodded and communicated his thoughts on the matter through a sequence of golden images. Jack took this to be some story about his dream dust scaring an unprepared adult.

Jack sighed and motioned for the story to be cut short. "Okay, okay, I get the picture–"

"Good," North chuckled. "Now all is sorted, time for the fearling."

Jack admitted defeat on the matter and tossed the glass ball to the Father Christmas individual. "So what would this tell us?"

"If the fearlings are getting stronger," Bunnymund said, "then we're in trouble."

"We've handled trouble before though," Jack reminded him cheerfully. "After all, Pitch wasn't exactly a walkover."

"And that is why we must make sure this time," North replied. "We must know if Pitch is back."

"You guys are just a barrel of laughs today," the ice spirit muttered. "Oh, and before this all gets too serious and complicated, can I just ask something else? These adults who see us... do they normally know about fearlings?"

He felt the sudden shift of interest focus onto him as the other four Guardians turned their eyes to him.

"So, this gal..." Bunnymund slowly started, "what did she say?"

"It's a bit hard to remember. I spent most the time trying to stay out of range."

"How do you know she knows about fearlings?" Tooth asked.

"She called it that." Jack nodded to the shadow caught in the glass ball. "And... I'm guessing from your expressions that that's rare?"

"Perhaps she knows something about this," the Tooth Fairy suggested brightly.

North beamed. "Good. Then we can invite her over."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And when you say '_invite'_...?"

North's grin widened and he turned back to one of the yetis standing by the doorway. "Phil, bring the sack!"

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Hey look, a Christmas Special where someone **_**other**_** than Baron gets beaten up/a door slammed in their face/water thrown over them by Haru! (See **_**A Winter's Tale**_**: Ch4 & **_**A Christmas Heart**_**: Ch5.) One of these days Haru will just greet someone without nearly injuring them... Don't worry, she's about to get her comeuppance! **


	4. Thursday 4th December

_**North**: "I hope the yetis treated you well."_

_**Jack**: "Yeah, I love being shoved into a sack and tossed through a magic portal!"_

_**North**: "Oh, good. That was my idea!"_

x

Thursday 4th December 2014

Thursday evening marched onward and, even with the onslaught of paperwork and marking that Haru had to do, the teacher found herself dragged out for a late cup of tea at the Crossroads with Hiromi. She stirred her drink idly with the blunt end of a fork and tuned out to the ramblings of her friend.

"I mean, Kasumi's finally sleeping again – although who knows how long that will last – but I can't help worrying about her or Michi. Even he's been tossing and turning in the night now," the young mother rattled on, her hands stressing her anxieties as they danced above the warm steam rolling off her coffee.

Haru nodded and drank deeply into her drink. She decided against mentioning the events of the night before. "How was Kasumi today?"

"Oh, as indomitable as ever. Did she tell you about her new fantasy – she's been telling everyone that she met Peter Pan..." Hiromi laughed and returned to her coffee. "Children have got such imagination."

Haru grunted her agreement, not trusting herself to add anything more. "Look, Hiromi, it's been great to meet up with you today and all, but I really have to go over tomorrow's lessons. The kids have got two more weeks and I have to make sure they're ready for their exams."

"Sure. Oh, and..." The lighter brunette fished out a couple of notes and pressed them into her friend's palm. "That's for looking after the two terrors last night."

Haru chuckled weakly and pushed them back. "Yeah, no, I don't accept payment for favours."

"Then... don't think of this as payment. Think of it as... gratitude, in the form of money."

"Hiromi..."

"Oh, come on, Haru; we both know that a teacher's wage doesn't exactly leave you rolling in cash. God knows no one goes into teaching for the pay. Anyway, if you weren't around, then Tsuge and I wouldn't be able to go to the conferences, or we'd have to actually hire a real babysitter."

The teacher regarded her friend, and then grudgingly took the notes. "I'll be spending this on your Christmas presents," she warned.

"Well then, I guess I'm just being selfish," Hiromi admitted with a grin. "If that's what it takes for you to take a little money, I think I can survive through a few more presents."

"You think you're so funny..." Haru rolled her eyes, which then fell on the hoodie of a familiar individual. Her head tilted curiously to one side and her brow dipped into a frown. "What...?"

"What?" Hiromi glanced back, trying to see what had caught the other woman's attention. "What is it?"

Haru leant forward and pointed through the crowds. "You see the blue hoodie there – the one with the staff?"

Hiromi squinted into the space Haru was gesturing to. "No..."

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Haru rose to her feet and slipped her bag over one shoulder. "It's been great to talk – I promise I'll try to find time to do this again – but I've got to go. Got to catch a... an acquaintance."

"I thought you said you needed to work," Hiromi threw back, a tad accusingly.

"Plans have just changed."

"Haru...?"

"It's someone from the school," she replied. "Another teacher. I'll see you later, Hiromi." Giving her friend a final wave, she disappeared along the maze of stalls that dominated the Crossroads this time of year. The evening cold had almost emptied the area and now most of the stalls were closed and locked, but she still had to ease her way past the occasional passerby.

She turned a corner and came to a fork in the stalls. She stood there for several moments, visibly stumped as she glanced along the deserted pathways. "Damn it. Lost him." She paced between the openings, when suddenly her left foot lost grip. She spun through the air, cartwheeling her arms for several moments before grabbing onto one of the stalls.

She hung there for several more seconds simply breathing hard, and then slowly dragged herself back to her feet with the utmost of dignity. Where she had lost balance, there was a long sliver of ice running along the cobbled ground. Now she turned her attention to such detail, there were obvious spirals of fresh ice spiralling along the stalls as well.

She idly ran a finger along the new ice. "What if Frost isn't just in the name?" she wondered aloud. "It's got to be worth a try."

Carefully stepping over the ground ice, she started into a run along the pathway, falling further into the maze of the Christmas fair. Now the ice was more prominent, obvious now that Haru was looking for it. In some places, the ice had been manipulated into shapes, even arrow-shaped in one incident. Haru had no doubt that the sprite knew exactly what she was doing.

She rounded a corner and misjudged the width of fresh ground ice. This time her whole form went skidding and she collided into an unmoving, unyielding, furry wall.

She bounced back and smacked onto the icy ground. Stars spun before her eyes and she had the momentary thought that, really, she should have called for Bureau backup, before brown filled her vision and she was bundled into something distinctly sack-like.

'_Kidnapped again,_' was her last thought. '_Muta's never going to forget this._'

ooOoo

In a surprisingly short time later, the sack was dropped onto tiled floor and the strings loosened. Instead of jumping straight out, Haru didn't move instantly. She was still hurting after the last two falls.

Something prodded the sack and an Australian accent could be heard to say, "Great. Looks like you killed our only lead, North."

"I told yetis to take good care," a Russian voice returned, uncannily cheerful despite the prospect that the sack only contained a body now. "She will be fine."

Haru dropped a hand into her bag and her fingers curled around a small canister. When the opening of the sack twitched, she kicked herself out, canister first, and released a spray of deodorant into her kidnapper's face.

She made a mental note to acquire actual defensive spray in the future.

However, her meagre attack had an effect. The individual who had been easing the bag open had staggered back, howling and holding two giant paws over his nose. "Bloody brood! What was that for?"

"I could ask you lot the same question!" Haru snapped back. She raised the can of deodorant at eye level and kept it solidly between her and the strange gatherings of individuals before her. The one she had managed to hit seemed to be a kangaroo hybrid of sorts, but at six feet tall and with boomerangs.

The one whom she assumed to be the owner of the Russian voice was a white-haired, bearded man, red-suited with black fur linings. That left the short, gold man apparently made of sand and the winged, feathered lady hovering in the back.

And, finally, Jack Frost.

"Is no need to panic," the Russian man assured. "All is okay–"

"_Okay_?" Haru echoed incredulously. "_No need to panic_? You stuff me into a _sack_ and drag me to who knows where and I'm not supposed to panic?!"

"Told you she wouldn't approve," Jack added.

"You!" Haru spun round to the winter spirit, canister raised dangerously in his direction. "I'm not even talking to you." She hesitated. "Who are these guys?"

"We're the Guardians," the kangaroo groaned. He straightened up, but his nose still twitched irritably. "I'm the Easter Bunny. E. Aster Bunnymund."

Haru hesitated again, and then lowered her deodorant in blatant disbelief. "Right. And I'm the tooth fairy."

"Actually – uh – that would be me..." The winged individual fluttered forward, laughing nervously. "Queen Toothania – but you can just call me Tooth." She offered a slim hand to the young woman.

Haru stepped back, eyes widening. "Wait. Just... wait a moment..." She glanced back to the Russian man. "So... if we've got the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy, then... you must be... Father Christmas?"

"Nicholas St. North. Is pleasure to meet you."

Haru ignored the second offered handshake. "Which only leaves... you..." She turned to the golden individual who had yet to utter a single syllable. She stared at him mutely for a moment and then admitted defeat. "I'm sorry, but _who_ are you?"

"That's Sandy," North said. "Also known as Sandman."

With a silent gesture, the smallest Guardian tipped a golden hat spiralling into existence from his dream sand. Haru tried to bite back a smile. "Oh, so... like the bogeyman?" she offered.

The Guardians visibly flinched away.

"No, no..."

"Sandy as Pitch? That's ridiculous."

The sole human raised a dubious eyebrow. "And... you're about to tell me that the bogeyman is real too, huh?"

"He was, but we took down the blighter," Bunnymund said with a punch to his chest.

"Fantastic. That's great. I applaud you." Haru's grip on the deodorant tightened and she stepped back. "But, as lovely as this meeting has been, perhaps someone could drop me off home now?"

"Oh, no, we couldn't do that just yet." Tooth came flying forward, nervously wringing her hands between one another. "You see, the fearlings are acting strangely and we were hoping you could help..."

"Help? How could I help? I know nothing about them."

"You can see them," Tooth said.

"So can he!" Haru gestured angrily to Jack Frost. "He's the one who said he captured one – shouldn't you be bundling _him_ into a sack instead?"

The winter spirit chuckled. "Too late. And, just to get this clear, I tried to persuade him against doing it again."

"You obviously need work on your persuasion skills," she muttered. "Look, I know practically nothing about the fearlings."

"Then how come you can see the critters?" Bunnymund demanded.

Now the young brunette paused. She ran her free hand nervously up her arm, fighting off the chill of the ice palace. The Bureau had become involved with many different people and worlds over the years – or so she had heard; some good, some bad – and so she wasn't sure just how a mention of the Creations would go down with this lot. "I... spend time around Creations..." she eventually settled on. "Apparently the magic affects those who are around too much, so now... I can see them. Like how I can see you guys..."

To her surprise, a little of the confusion cleared from the Guardians. Four of them, anyway.

"Ah, Creations..." North rumbled.

"This would be Sandy's department, mate."

"I'm sorry, have I missed something?" Haru interrupted.

"Yes, please explain." Jack leant into the conversation with a swing of his staff. "Why am I hearing about this the same time she is?"

"Well, all Guardians... well, almost all," Tooth added apologetically, "have helpers. I have my fairies, North his yetis and elves, Bunnymund his eggs, and Sandy... Well, didn't you ever wonder where his helpers were?"

"I'm sorry, I was too busy not being a part of your exclusive Guardian club."

Haru watched the exchange cautiously. "Do... you want me to leave the room while you talk this through, or can I stay?"

"You get used to this after a while," Bunnymund assured. "He just likes to guilt trip us once in a while."

"Hey!"

"Oh, I'm sorry – I meant every other day!"

"Perhaps your kangaroo ears just need some cleaning out!"

"I'm a bunny!"

"You can say it all you like, but it won't make it any truer."

Haru broke into a sudden laugh and received dirty looks from both individuals.

"What?"

"What's so funny?"

"No, don't mind me..." Haru covered her mouth with one hand and tried to fight back the laughter. "You just... remind me of a couple of friends... Anyway, what's this about Creations?" she added, desperately trying to drag the topic back on track. "Are you saying they're... Sandy's... _helpers_?"

"Sandy looks after the dreams of children," Tooth explained, continuing on from where she had been interrupted. Haru gained the impression that the bickering between Jack and Bunnymund was more commonplace than to be expected. "But toys also help to fend off the nightmares. Not all toys – only toys that are loved enough by children gain life."

"Like Creations," Haru breathed in understanding. "Except, Creations are brought to life by the artisans who made them..."

"Yes. However, while toys are filled with the childlike wonder and belief of their owners, Creations are... a little bit more complex. They do fall under the same category as the toys, but... they don't usually have much to do with us."

"That would explain why they never mentioned you lot."

"Well, now all is sorted out, my yetis will drop you back," North said cheerfully. "You are obviously not nightmare or dream pirate."

"I think I would know if I were," Haru returned with a raised eyebrow. As the yetis came ambling back towards her, picking up the discarded sack, she yelped and brought the canister of deodorant before her. "Stay back! I will use this... this deadly weapon! I mean it!"

Jack laughed. "Good luck with that."

"You said you wanted to go home," North reminded her, obviously confused by her panic.

"I kind of meant _sans_ sack. And, before I go, I'd like to know a little more about the fearlings," she added. "I've been beating them away from the kids with a stick and I know they aren't going to hurt the children, but they _are_ scaring them. They scare me. You said something about a bogeyman?"

"Yeah. Pitch was the real mastermind behind the fearlings," Bunnymund said. "He didn't use them much. He preferred the nightmares that he had created."

"But you said you defeated this... Pitch?"

"Around last Easter," Tooth agreed.

Haru had some faint memories of strange events during that time; she pushed them away to dissect later. "Okay, so he was in control of the shadows and darkness, but after you defeated him – then what?"

"Well, that was it." Jack chuckled and looked to the other Guardians. "Right?"

"Pitch is not coming back," North nodded.

"Yeah, but I was kind of wondering about the shadows..." Haru slowly continued, dancing her fingers idly between one another. "Because, just because you broke down their leader, it doesn't mean they disappear, right?" She glanced round to the Guardians and her heart sank. "Right?" she repeated weakly. "You didn't just assume that the shadows would disappear, did you...? You did, didn't you?"

As the Guardians took prolonged interest in their shoes or feet, Haru found her answer.

"Oh, Lord..."

"It is easy mistake to make," North insisted. "And we have had no problem... until now..."

"But you'll always have darkness," Haru returned sharply. "Even without this Pitch, they'll still be around. Maybe not with an agenda, but they won't just disappear. And now it's winter, and the nights are getting longer and... and this is the first winter they've gone without Pitch overseeing them, isn't it?" she asked with tangible dread.

"Maybe not the first winter..." North speculated. "Maybe there have been very early winters, before he came into existence..."

"Oh blimey," Bunnymund croaked to him. "So the darkness is running wild and you're telling me they're only going to get stronger with winter?"

"Well, as much as I've enjoyed this, now I think I'd like to go home," Haru reminded them. "I've got a few friends who might want to hear about this too. Uh... where are the exits?"

"Phil, show this young lady home."

One of the yetis came towards her and Haru raised the canister again.

"Without the sack," North called.

The yeti sighed and dropped the bag. Instead, a crystal-like globe was retrieved, shaken, and then dissolved into a spinning portal. Haru glanced in, wrinkled her nose, and was about to point out a flaw in this when the yeti pushed her through.

ooOoo

The next thing Haru was aware of, she was falling through a crowd of people in fancy dress, mostly Santa Clauses, reindeers, and elves, in broad daylight. Stumbling through her apologies, she bowed and backed away as fast as possible. Even so, she couldn't help finding it a bit strange to find so many Europeans or Americans – obvious by their dress and appearance – _en masse_. Then again, it was the holidays.

She took refuge beneath a shop canopy and stared up at the cloudy sky. When the yetis had kidnapped her, it had been evening – had so much time passed that it was already day, or were the portals as unreliable here as they were in the Cat Kingdom?

As her eyes scanned the sky, they caught on the signs swinging from the shops. The letters seemed strange for a moment, and then they appeared to physically melt away and rearrange themselves into recognisable kanji. She blinked. Sometimes shops did use the western alphabet, but she had never seen _so many_. Also, it appeared the Bureau's aptitude for translating languages extended to the written word as well.

She rubbed at her eyes and dropped her gaze to the bright selection of merchandise inside the nearest shop.

Dollars.

"Oh, boy."

She paced away from the shops and retrieved her phone from a pocket, all too glad to see that it had survived her rather unexpected kidnapping. She keyed a quickdial option and the other end was picked up almost immediately.

"Haru. What a pleasant surprise," Baron greeted. Since Haru had never seen a phone in the Bureau, she had never quite understood how it could receive messages... but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth right now.

"I'd skip the pleasant part," Haru replied. "Hey, um... I kind of need a favour."

"Of course. What is it that you need?"

"A portal."

"At this time of night? Where are you?"

"Relax, Baron; everything's fine–"

"What's happened? Where are you?" he repeated with increased urgency.

She sighed and glanced up to the sky. Snow was beginning to fall. "America."

There was a long silence from the other end of the phone. Then, "Which state?"

**ooOoo**

**A/N: So**** I know the sack scene was already done in RotG, but I really wanted to play around with it. I am also doing my utmost best to keep the characters... well, **_**in**_**-character, but I am sorry if I slip. I am just much more accustomed and relaxed with the TCR cast than RotG.**

**Also, my computer has broken (I'm having to crash at the university library just to update, let alone WRITE this darn 'fic) so you can imagine what fun that is, plus I have an exam tomorrow, so stress, stress, stress... so please leave a lovely review and I will do my utmost best to reply after the exam. (For additional humour, remember that I'm studying biology, and this particular module is all about mammalian life histories, which basically translates to animal… _coitus,_ and so studying this in the library is… somewhat entertaining, if only for the funky looks I'm getting…)**

**Merry Christmas,**

**Cat.**


	5. Friday 5th December

"_She's not always a benevolent soul, and she is very unpredictable."_

Bunnymund.

x

Friday 5th December 2014

In the usual fashion in which anything was dealt with in the Bureau, Haru's rather surprising appearance in the American state of Pennsylvania was met with a cup of Baron's special blend of tea and cake. It was well into the night in Japan when Haru returned to the Sanctuary, but she was not one for turning down tea. Especially not Baron's special blend.

Anyway, it was a Friday (well, probably; Haru was relatively sure that it had recently passed midnight), and she could survive one day teaching on limited sleep. Still, she bit back the tiredness as she took the proffered mug.

"I'll bet it's just like the Cat Kingdom problem all over again," Muta said, quickly being the first to put up his opinion on the matter. "You shoulda minded your business in whatever you were sticking your nose into."

"Muta," Baron reprimanded.

"Well..." Haru blushed slightly. "I guess I _was_ being a little nosy..."

"See? What did I tell you? Yer got curious and now you're in trouble for it, that's all I'm saying."

"But that wasn't any reason for them to just stuff me into a sack!"

"They did what?"

Haru quickly turned to the cat Creation, hurriedly raising her hands in a calming gesture, even as the feline started to bristle at the thought. "No, they didn't mean me any harm, I swear! They just wanted to ask a few questions and... went the wrong way about it. I'm fine. Honestly, I'm fine."

"You're very lucky you could contact us," Toto remarked. "They dropped you off at entirely the wrong continent without any means home. You could have been stuck in a rut if not."

"He's right," Baron agreed sharply. "What would you have done if we weren't an option?"

"I... would have got home somehow." Haru decided against mentioning that the same thoughts had run through her mind also. The rest of the Bureau didn't need any more ammunition on the subject.

"How?"

"I don't know. Hitchhiking?"

"Right. You were hoping to hitchhike across the North Pacific Ocean."

Haru scoffed and then sheepishly sipped at her tea to avoid Baron's tangible skeptism. "It's fine." She reddened slightly. "I don't know why you're getting so worked up about this. They probably would have realised their mistake eventually." Actually, she doubted that the thought had even crossed North's mind. But, again, the Bureau didn't need to know that.

Baron sighed, and Haru heard the tone of defeat. "Okay. Perhaps we should move onto the topic of exactly what happened to drag you halfway across the globe."

"Yeah, what'cha do this time, Chicky?"

"I didn't do anything!" Haru snapped.

"Ya sure? You didn't save any stray cats or anything?"

"I'm sure!" She made a face at the fat cat and turned to the two Creations. "I met the Guardians."

"Guardians of what?" Muta asked.

"I don't know. They didn't give that little titbit of information." She waved her hand through the air irritably. "But there can't be too many people claiming to be Father Christmas, can there?"

"You met the Guardians of Childhood?"

Haru turned to the crow. "Does that also involve the Easter Bunny, the Sandman, the Tooth Fairy, and Jack Frost?"

"Jack Frost is a Guardian?"

Baron answered Toto's question. "Only since this year. Remember the events of last Easter?"

"Why?" Haru asked. "What happened?"

"We were not involved, as such, but since we are tied to the Sandman, we do like to keep tabs on what is happening in the Guardians' worlds," he said. "If you remember, Haru, you reported last Easter that the children were suffering from nightmares?"

"Yes. And then the Bureau closed up shop for a couple of days and I assumed you were out solving the case."

"Not exactly, Chicky."

Haru glanced between the members of the Bureau. "Then... what happened?"

"Our magic may have been... _revoked_ during that period," Baron eventually answered.

"What does that even mean?" she demanded. "Revoked? But your magic comes from being a Creation – you were born–"

"Created," Baron supplied.

"Whatever – with it. How can you just...?"

"Like they said, they're tied to the Sandman," Muta grunted, helping himself to another slice of cake. He received a glare from Baron, and the large feline shrugged defensively. "What? She's not eating it. Anyway, Chicky, what do you think happens if the Sandman goes away?"

"What? But I saw the Sandman – he's fine."

"Now he is. But there was a period around Easter where... for all purposes, he died," Baron explained.

"I don't think you and I share the same concept of death," Haru returned flatly. "People don't die and then come back–"

"They're spirits. Different thing, Chicky."

"So what happened to the Bureau when the Sandman died?" she asked, completely ignoring Muta's comment. "I mean, the place was closed up and dark, so I just assumed..." Haru trailed off numbly. Her brows furrowed in sudden realisation. "Baron, what happens if you don't have any magic?"

Baron looked away. His answer was soft, yet uneasy. "Our magic is... all that separates us from being inanimate objects, Haru. The moment when we lost our magic rendered us to be nothing more than the material we were originally carved out from. The Sanctuary has magic of its own, but Toto and I were both out when that disaster struck."

Haru was silent for a moment. "So... if you were in the Sanctuary, then you would have remained...?" Was '_alive_' the right word? _Sentient_? _Real_? Would he have remained _her Baron_?

"I believe so."

"But we wouldn't be able to leave the Sanctuary, Haru," Toto added. "This place is a refuge, but only for those who occupy it. It cannot protect us when we leave it."

Haru, however, had already moved on to the topic that was troubling her. "If... something went wrong with the Guardians last Easter," she started slowly, "then what does it mean if the fearlings are indeed becoming a hazard again?" She fixed her gaze on the cat Creation. "Does that mean you two are in danger of... _that_ happening again?"

"I wouldn't worry, Haru," Toto reassured, hopping down to her level. "The Guardians are quite capable of dealing with whatever comes their way, I assure you."

Haru thought back to the straggly group of misfits who called themselves the Guardians, and momentarily wondered how a collection of individuals all so clearly mad could deal with world-threatening dangers.

Then again, the same principle could be applied to the Bureau.

"I need to go home," she mumbled, shaking her head and rising to her feet. "It's... It's been a long night."

"It's late, Haru; allow us to escort you."

Haru glanced over to the Creation; now standing half a head taller than her, but the moment she stepped out of the Sanctuary she would return to her true height and she would be reminded that he really was a living doll. She smiled weakly. "No offense, Baron, but I'm not sure how much help you guys would be if anything happened."

"It's like two in the morning, Chicky," Muta groaned. "Are you really going to go out at this time?"

"What other option do I have?"

"You are very welcome to stay here," Baron offered.

The smile weakened further, and she was suddenly making a show of not meeting the gaze of any of the Bureau occupants. "I'd rather head home, if that's okay with you," she mumbled. It was a little hard to see with her head turned away from him, but Baron detected the faintest of blushes creeping across the brunette's face. "I have to be up early for the school day and everything I need is at home anyway, so I might as well head back now..."

"As you wish."

However, upon opening the Bureau doors, the occupants were hit with an onslaught of torrential snow. It swept down in force, a wall of white spitting down from the sky. Baron took Haru's elbow and gently prompted her away from the doors.

"I thought you told me that the Sanctuary doesn't get affected by the outside world weather?" she asked pointedly.

"It doesn't," he replied. "Which means that whatever is causing this is powerful."

"Is this why we're backing away?" Haru whispered.

"This is why it is probably not too wise to stand so close."

"Why are you whispering?" Muta padded up behind them and stared apathetically out to the howling storm. He gave a low whistle upon seeing the intensity of the weather. "Holy mackerel, Baron; which god have you managed to tick off this time?"

"_This time_?" Haru echoed. "When–"

"I can assure you, Muta, that that is not the case," Baron said flatly. "And, for the record, it was only a minor river deity last time."

Muta chuckled. "Not that you dared say _that_ to his face."

"It looks like the storm is covering the human town as well," Toto called from his spot by the balcony windows. "Whatever it is, it's hit as far as the eye can see."

"Which means, Miss Haru, that it would be foolish to venture out in such–" Baron turned to see that the young human was gone. He quickly located her several seconds later, standing in the midst of the storm. "Haru!"

She was barely visible through the swirling storm, but there was no mistaking her darkened form. She turned back to them, her coat whipping in the wind and the snow lining her collar. "I... thought..."

"Geez, Chicky; what part of _great big flipping powerful storm_ didn't you get?"

The rest of the Bureau had pushed forward to where Haru stood, Toto battling to keep his feathers in line and Muta just standing immovable by the elements. However, even the fat cat looked a little ruffled by the furious wind. Baron was keeping a strong grip on his cane and hat.

"Miss Haru, I suggest that we return to the Bureau before something untoward happens."

"Yeah, like before he loses his precious hat," Muta snorted.

"I heard someone," Haru blurted out.

"What?"

"Out here. I heard... at least, I thought I did... I'm not sure now, but I thought..." She stepped away from the others, looking about at the bleak surroundings. The miniature buildings were hazed in a veil of thick white; she tried to push back her wild hair from her face, and now her conviction was slipping. "Or... did I just imagine it...?"

"Don't worry; if you're hearing voices, we can always check you into a loony bin," Muta chuckled. He dropped a heavy hand onto her shoulder, grounding her back to the present. "Now, get back inside before my tail freezes off."

"Thanks for the wondrous encouragement," Haru deadpanned. "Alright, sorry guys. I guess it has just been one too many late nights–" She turned and the words died in her throat. She froze, her face only inches away from a strange woman's.

She stumbled back and Baron caught her, one gloved hand curling around her arm.

"Who are you?"

The woman's eyes were a strange olive-green – Haru had been close enough to see that much – and her dark hair cascaded down about her like a black cloak. Like she was immersed in water, her locks floated out from her, swirling in a current that was a far cry from the furious wind that attacked the Sanctuary. Her dress was the same olive-green, and it dropped down to the ground in a swirl of flowing material.

The olive eyes flickered to the Bureau.

"You... are not the Guardians..." she whispered.

Her voice carried even over the howl of the storm, wheedling its way relentlessly into the ears of the listeners.

"No," Baron admitted; he had to shout to be heard over the roar of the wind and weather, "but we know of the Guardians. We can pass any message along that you need–"

"What I need," the woman wheezed sharply, "is help."

"We can give help. We're the Cat Bureau; helping is what we do best."

"You? What good can you be?" She started to laugh, but then the humour was cut off in a spurt of pain and she staggered where she stood. Baron moved forward to support her, but his hand passed straight through her arm. He stopped and backed away.

"I see."

Haru tugged at his sleeve. "Baron, look at that." She pointed to the plant pots set below the Bureau windows; the flowers – previously barren from winter – had burst into life once more. "What's going on? Who is she?"

"Could she at least turn off the storm? My butt is freezing here!"

"Which is surprising given how much fat you have."

"I heard that, birdbrain!"

"I'm not sure," Baron admitted. "She's not truly here – that much I understand. She is merely trying to convey a message to the Guardians; somehow, however, it went wrong and resulted in her message being directed here, instead." The Creation glanced back to the stranger, and then to Haru again. "You probably have a little of the Guardian magic still on you from your interaction with them earlier. And the Sanctuary has a habit of picking up distress signals."

"Well, we can't ignore a distress signal."

"Quite right." Baron moved one hand to his head and then, remembering that he was grasping his hat in his other hand, performed a quick bow instead. "We are the Cat Bureau, and I assure you that we are quite excellent in problematic situations."

"I'm afraid... it's too late for that..." the woman gasped. "The fearlings have become... too powerful... I can't... I can't stop them anymore..." She raised her eyes and the olive irises momentarily darkened, narrowing to cold pinpricks. She was breathing quicker now, as if struggling to get the words out. "The Guardians need to know that I... failed..."

Her dress was changing now, curdling to a rotten black that was steadily weaving upwards into the fabric. Her face was losing its colour and becoming gaunt, haunted.

"They need... to mend my mistakes..."

She blinked, and now the olive was gone entirely. Only hollow blackness remained.

"I'm sorry."

As abruptly as the flowers had grown, the plants by the Bureau twisted in on themselves and died. The snow darkened and now it was like soot was raining down from the sky. A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air and the blackened snow shivered and melted into sharp shadows. The Sanctuary was flooded with darkness and shadows – shadows with teeth and eyes – and the light from the Bureau died away.

It was now black – pitch black.

It was black, and the shadows were still crawling over the Sanctuary. They tore at Haru's exposed skin – she could feel them although she could no longer seem them – only the occasional flash of a fang, the blink of an eye–

"ENOUGH!"

Baron's magic rippled through the Sanctuary. The golden light exploded in the darkness and the shadows recoiled with inhuman screams as they scurried for shelter. Haru dropped to her knees. The woman was gone. But the snow remained. It still fell from the sky, no longer black or even white, but instead a sordid grey.

"Haru? Haru!"

She looked up to the emerald eyes of the Creation, and noted absent-mindedly that everyone else seemed to have been untouched by the shadows. "Well... that's not fair. Why didn't they go for any of you?" she murmured.

"The shadows have a preference for humans," Baron muttered. He had now dropped his gaze away and Haru looked to where his eyes were trailing – along her arm where the scratches were beginning to ooze blood.

She felt no repulsion at the wounds – after all, it was only a little blood – but she didn't like the weakness that was seeping through her. Shock, she reasoned in a somewhat muddled fashion. Shock and a nasty dose of terror and post-adrenaline were probably responsible for that. She tried to push herself to her feet only for her legs to give way a moment later.

Baron smoothly caught her before she hit the snow-covered cobbles.

She smiled feebly up at him. "Still think the Guardians are going to be fine?"

**ooOoo**

**A/N: So I survived the exam (yay!) but I'm a little behind on my writing (boo!) so the Behind-the-Scenes chapter may be a little late in arriving - I'm going to write it, no worries, but there's no way I'd be able to tidy it up by this evening. So it may come a couple of days late, but it is coming. **

**(****Also, you guys are the best! Your reviews have been perking me up fantastically during this revision period (and that includes those of you who found me on Tumblr too) so thank you so much. You have no idea how much I've been loving them.)**

**Merry Christmas,**

**Cat.**


	6. Saturday 6th December

_"So, the Big Four all together: Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Sandman, and the Easter Kangaroo."_

Jack Frost.

x

Saturday 6th December 2014

Haru was mortified to be told the next day that she had fainted.

Actually fainted.

As in pass-the-smelling-salts, swooning, kind of fainting. Even worse, when she came to she was sprawled across the Bureau's sofa in an untidy mess, a blanket half-drawn across her. While she was still wearing the same clothes she had collapsed in, it looked like someone – Baron – had taken care to bandage and tend to the cuts along her arms.

"Ah, so I see you're finally awake." There was the clatter of a teacup and saucer being set down on the coffee table – even if he hadn't spoken, it was quite clear that the individual in question was Baron. He was the only one who would face any problem with a good cup of tea. "How are you feeling?"

"Nauseous," she groaned. She pushed herself up and was immediately hit with a wave of sickness.

"I expected as much. Drink the tea – it's fennel and ginger, so it should help."

"What happened?"

"You collapsed."

Hand halfway curled around the teacup, Haru hesitated. "_No_... I _didn't_, did I?"

"Afraid ya did, Chicky. A complete lights out." There was the rattle of cupboard doors as Muta raided the Bureau pantry. "Hey, Baron; where's the cake? You said there was some left!"

"There was, until you ate the last slice," Baron sighed. He took a seat in the armchair across from Haru and watched the brunette with an extra dose of care. "How is your arm feeling? I saw to the wounds as well as I could, but–"

"It's fine," Haru quickly cut across. Baron was a worrier, always had been. She certainly didn't need to give him anything extra to stress over. "I mean, yeah, I ache and I'm a little bit confused still and–" she spotted the sun low in the sky outside "–_holy heck, what time is it? _I'm going to be late for my class – I haven't even called in sick; they won't have a clue – they won't even be prepared with a substitute–"

Baron's hands caught Haru's arms and firmly led her back to the sofa before she could collapse a second time. "Relax, Haru; it's Saturday. No lessons to teach on a Saturday, I assume."

"No, but... wait, but it was Friday morning when I..." Haru paled as the situation hit her and the panic began anew. "I've been unconscious for a _whole day_? Does the school know? Did they call? What happened?"

"What happened," Baron calmly assured, "is under control."

Haru slowly sat back onto the sofa, one eyebrow expertly raised. "Strangely enough, that doesn't reassure me."

"The school informed me that yesterday was something they referred to as a 'snow day'–"

"When did the school tell you that?"

"When I called yesterday to tell them that you were sick and wouldn't be able to make it in for the day," Baron said.

"What?" Haru chuckled half-amused, half-bemused. "You called them? How?"

The Creation gestured to Haru's bag situated beneath the table. "Believe it or not, I am not wholly unfamiliar with the concept of a mobile phone, Miss Haru."

There was a snort from the other side of the room. "Don't believe a word of it, Chicky," Muta guffawed. "If I hadn't been there, it would have taken fancypants all night just to find the on button. Oh, and you might want to check the photos."

Baron reddened, even through the fur. "In my defence, it wasn't clear that it was on the camera mode. I thought the red button would exit that setting."

Haru was watching the proceedings with rising hilarity. Evidently, Muta hadn't opted to tell Baron that he could delete the photos either. She would have to take a look later. "And once you did manage to find the contact list?"

"It was easy enough to locate your work number," Baron said.

"Yeah, it was kind of unmissable with the name 'WORK HIROMI DON'T PRANKCALL I MEAN IT' attached to it," Muta grunted. "You need new friends, kid."

"No, I just need the current ones to grow out of their five-year-old mentality," Haru muttered. "You'd think having a child would do that, but apparently it only makes it worse..." She paused, and then slowly looked back to Baron. "When... you called... who did you say you were?"

"I told them I was your cousin."

"I don't have any cousins."

"Apparently your co-workers don't know that," Baron replied. "Anyway, it seemed like the most appropriate answer, given that I was calling from your phone on your behalf."

Haru mentally skimmed over the other answers he could have given – brother, friend-who-apparently-called-on-her-behalf, boyfriend... – and quickly agreed with his conclusion. "Okay," she admitted, "you're right."

"Geez, Chicky; don't go telling him that. It'll go to his head."

"I assure you, Muta, it won't go to my head."

"Moving on from the fact that my co-workers will now think that I have my non-existent cousin staying over," Haru sighed, "can anyone explain what happened before I fainted?" She was loathed to admit it, but there really was no other way to refer to her collapse. "Let's start with who that woman was and what exactly we plan on doing about it, and move on from there."

"Ask Baron; he's the one with the theory."

Haru wasn't going to tell Muta that she _had_ been asking Baron.

Baron, however, didn't look happy with whatever he had to say. "After some research on the matter, I believe that the individual we were dealing with was... Mother Nature."

Haru stared at him. Then threw her hands up into the air and collapsed further back into the sofa.

"Do you not believe me, Haru?"

"I've run out of disbelief for the day," she snorted. "Apparently Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny are real; heck, why not add Mother Nature as well?" The deadpan laughter died away and she settled down to tackle the situation. "But if that was Mother Nature... what does that mean?"

"It means we're in a whole lot of doo-doo, Chicky."

"It does pose... quite a dilemma," Baron admitted. "If the nightmares and shadows are strong enough to take down Mother Nature, then the Guardians are going to be challenged too."

"Have you told them that yet?"

"Toto delivered the message last night–"

"Which is why the birdbrain has been sleeping like a tonne of rocks since then."

"–but it takes a while for the Guardians to gather. Once they are congregated, I expect we will be asked to join them to give a fuller picture of Friday's events."

"Which isn't that full," Haru added. "I mean, how sure are you that it even was Mother Nature?"

"Have you seen the news?"

"No, Muta; I've been unconscious for the last twenty-four hours," she snapped back. She hesitated a moment later, her brows quickly furrowing. "Why? What's happened?"

"The weather across the globe has turned vicious," Baron answered. "The snow storm is still going and shows no sign of letting up here; on the other hemisphere, there's severe heatwaves, other places floods, hurricanes..."

"Oh." Haru coughed awkwardly and – now that she had turned her ear to it – she could hear the roar of the storm outside. "Um... on a scale of one to Muta-in-a-bakery, how screwed are we?"

"Bakery."

"Hey!"

"Oh. And... we can't do anything...?"

"I can only assume that this weather is indicative of the shadows and nightmares running loose without Mother Nature holding them back," Baron said. "With her gone – or hindered – it is not surprising that the elements have turned against humanity. I expect that our main hope lies with the Guardians fighting back the darkness."

"So we're just going to wait until we get summoned by the Guardians?"

"You can _try_ going home if ya like," Muta chuckled humourlessly. "But it looks like this storm ain't going anywhere anytime soon."

"Again, Muta, you are full of wondrous encouragement." She turned to Baron, her heart sinking a little. "Baron? Do we have a plan?"

"We're dealing with a force of nature here," the Creation said quietly. "As much as I dislike admitting it, I think this may be out of the Bureau's control."

"But... your light magic... that managed to push the shadows away..."

"I was lucky. I doubt they were expecting much resistance, otherwise that should not have done much of anything. All the same, I'm not sure how many times that particular trick will work."

"Still, we should do _something_..."

"Haru, look at the scars on your arm!" Baron snapped in an uncharacteristic show of frustration. "We're not dealing with wayward cats this time; these creatures are dangerous! They will hurt you – they _have_ hurt you – and I don't want you..." He hesitated, and the anger abruptly shifted into muted embarrassment, "Or anyone else," he was quick to add, "getting hurt because of this."

Haru opened and closed her mouth several times, before finding the words to continue. The emphasis in Baron's words hadn't gone unnoticed. "But surely if we can do something to help," she murmured, "then we should. That's what the Bureau is for, isn't it? To help?"

"Haru..."

"No, Baron; the Bureau is here to help, right?"

"To help those we can," he answered tightly. "We make a distinction between reckless heroics and bravery that can make a difference."

"Are you trying to tell me that what you did in the Cat Kingdom _wasn't_ reckless heroics?"

"We were dealing with a few crazy cats back there, not a force of nature," Baron replied. "I don't think a few sturdy hits with the cane will beat these monsters back."

"Funny. I would have thought impossible odds would be your thing."

Baron's gaze flickered back to her bandaged arms, and this time Haru registered the guilt on the Creation's face. "It's my fault that happened," he murmured. "I wasn't quick enough to see what was happening. I might not be fast enough next time." He looked away. "Impossible odds are a lot easier to face when you haven't got so much to lose."

Haru opened her mouth, stumbled over the unspoken words, and then hastily closed it.

Why did it seem he was implying that he had _gained_ something worth losing?

There was a loud thud from outside, audible even over the roar of the storm, and luckily the conversation was quickly moved on.

"Was that... someone knocking?"

"They sound large," Haru said. "Even for a human."

Toto appeared at the balcony windows, letting himself in and shaking the snow off. "Our ride's here, Baron. Good afternoon, Haru."

"Apparently it's far from good," she said gloomily. "I see you're awake then? Muta said you were sleeping after your journey earlier."

"Yes. And I see you're finally among the land of the conscious too. How are you feeling?"

"Better. I think Baron's tea did the trick."

"Of course it did," Muta grunted. "What's this about our ride, chickenwings?"

A furry face poked its flat nose through the balcony windows and rumbled a greeting.

"Great. More yetis," Haru groaned.

The yeti gave a cheerful little wave through the window and then knocked again at the double doors.

"I guess we're being summoned," Haru said with a shrug. She pulled the Bureau doors open and found the same friendly yeti now kneeling down to peer through the doorway. It gave a rumbling greeting and Haru had a sinking suspicion that this was one of the ones that had previously stuffed her into a sack.

Luckily there was no sack in sight this time.

"I thought the Sanctuary translated all languages," she whispered to Baron as they approached the yeti and the open portal it had waiting for them.

"Most languages," the Creation amended. "Yeti is a very ancient language that is exceptionally difficult to learn and even more impossible to speak. However, in my many years I have picked up some yeti along the way." He stood before the creature and issued forth rumblings somewhat similar.

The yeti stared down and then barraged Baron with an onslaught of angry grumblings.

Baron blushed. "Okay, maybe my yeti is a little rusty."

"What did you say to him?" Haru hissed as the Bureau occupants were roughly nudged towards the portal.

"It was meant to be a traditional yeti greeting," he muttered. "Perhaps they use a different dialect at the Pole..."

"Perhaps you have too many cat genes," Haru suggested. When he looked mildly confused, she expanded with, "There was a distinctly feline tone to your words, plus I'm pretty sure yetis don't purr."

His eyebrows shot up. "I purred?"

"You didn't know?"

"_I purred_?"

"I'll take that as a no."

The yeti, now impatient about his charges' dillydallying, gave a more pointed push and shoved the two through the portal. Muta and Toto were quick to follow. And then, finally, the yeti.

Not to Haru's surprise, she found herself stumbling straight out into the ice palace, into the same room as before. And stumbling was indeed the right word – Baron had to catch her arm to stop her making a sudden face-palm with the floor. "Seriously," she hissed to the Creation, "what did you say to the yeti?"

Baron started to speak, and then hesitated. A frown crossed his features. His head tilted to one side in clear confusion, and Haru likewise mirrored his frown.

"What? Have I got something on my face? Did the portal do something? Wait..."

Wait... She was still at eye level with him.

And they weren't in the Sanctuary anymore.

"Baron..."

"Yes?"

"Please tell me you got bigger."

He gave her a pitying look. "I'm afraid that isn't the case."

"That's not the answer I was hoping for." She grimaced and tore her eyes away from Baron, briefly looking over Toto and Muta who were both still larger than her – and then over the gathering of Guardians who were all _significantly_ larger.

Nicholas St. North leant down to the tiny collection of individuals.

"You are smaller than I remember."

"I'm usually a _bit_ taller," Haru admittedly flatly. "It's these damn portals; I never have any luck with them."

"When we return to the Sanctuary, you should revert to your true height upon exiting," Baron reassured her. "I assure you, you are not permanently fixed at this stature."

"Well, that's something, I suppose."

"So these are the toys that are going to help?" a thick Australian accent demanded. The rabbit sat back on his haunches and gave an unimpressed snort. "Blimey, we're in even more trouble than I thought."

Undaunted, Baron stepped forward and tipped his hat – still coated in a melting layer of snow. "Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, at your service. I don't believe the Cat Bureau has had the pleasure of meeting the Guardians in their entirety before, but we are familiar with your work." He tipped the hat to the silent, golden Guardian. "It's good to see you again, Sandy."

Sandy returned the greeting with a swirl of his golden sand.

The high windows of the Belief Globe room rattled open and the final Guardian flew in with a scattering of ice.

"Late again," Bunnymund grumbled.

"Sorry," Jack apologised, although he didn't sound the least bit so. "I didn't see the message. What's happening?"

"You tell us," the Easter Bunny snapped. "Don't you think you've done quite enough recently? Or are you going to tell us that the snow storm across the globe has _nothing_ to do with you?"

The winter spirit raised his hands in defence as the six-foot something rabbit bore down on him. "Hey, hey, I really don't know what's going on. I didn't do anything."

"Jack is right," said North. "This is far beyond his power."

"See. Hey! Are you saying I couldn't whip up a storm like that?"

"It's not just the snow storm, Jack," Toothania reminded him. "The weather across the entire world is out of balance. Heatwaves, tornadoes, floods..."

"So if snowball there didn't do this," Bunnymund demanded, "then who did?"

"Who indeed?" North agreed.

"I think this is where you will appreciate our help," Baron said with a smile. Despite all his talk earlier about not being able to tackle the darkness, Haru knew that he disliked being called useless all the same. But if it got him out of whatever funk he was suffering from, she wasn't going to comment. "Yesterday morning – shortly after you dropped Miss Haru off – we believe we encountered Mother Nature–"

There was a snort from the kangaroo hybrid. "Nah, sorry, mate, but why would she go to you guys?"

"It wasn't intentional," Haru said. "She was looking for you lot but... I guess she got lost along the way. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we have news that I guarantee you'll need to hear."

"How can you even be sure it was Mother Nature?" Bunnymund persisted. "Have you ever seen her before?"

"No..." Haru admitted.

"But who else would be powerful enough to manipulate the Earth's entire weather system?" Baron asked.

"And we saw her fall, and now the weather is completely cuckoo. Does that sound like a coincidence to you?"

There was a flurry of upheaval at Muta's comment among the Guardians. Baron glanced irritably to the fat cat. "I was just getting to that point."

"Eh. Sorry."

"Fallen?"

"Nah, mate, you've got to be wrong."

"But if _she_ couldn't fight off the shadows, what hope do we have?"

"I'm sorry, Mother Nature?"

"We'll just have to fend 'em off, Tooth – ain't no shadow going to get into my warren!"

"Why am I always the last one to hear about these things?"

Haru glanced across the Guardians – even the Sandman was trying to get his penny's worth through a swirling mass of shifting golden sand – and then to Baron, one eyebrow raised once again. "Is the fate of the world really resting on this lot?"

"That's it. We're dead," Muta huffed.

"Because, if so, I don't know how I feel about that," Haru continued.

"Dead, Chicky. So dead."

"Okay, now I know how to feel. Thanks for the clarification, Muta."

"You're welcome."

Baron caught Haru's eye, and she saw him give the briefest of eye-rolls – if she had blinked, she would have missed it. "It always worries me a little when you and Muta begin to team up together," he murmured quietly to the woman. "It seems like a dangerous combination."

"Oh, no; if Muta and Toto ever got their act together – now _that_ would be a dangerous combination." Haru smirked. "The Cat Bureau might even be semi-competent."

"Semi-competent?" Baron echoed. "May I remind you who saved whom in the Cat Kingdom?"

"May I remind you who allowed me to be kidnapped by cats in his own house?" Haru asked back.

"It could happen to anyone," he muttered.

"Oh, sure."

Baron studiously ignored the sarcasm dripping from Haru's words, and instead turned his attention to the cacophony of havoc bouncing between the Guardians. "The Bureau always had the situation under control; it was just that sometimes the plan had to be forsaken for improvisation."

"That's putting it mildly."

"Baron," Toto said; "don't you think it's time that we moved onto putting together a plan for this situation?"

"Quite right." The Creation clapped his hands together to gain attention, but the Guardians continued to talk over their heads – evidently having forgotten their tiny guests. Haru watched him continue this fruitless endeavour for several seconds longer before taking pity. She raised her hand to her lips and emitted an ear-splitting whistle.

The Guardians quietened down and Haru smirked to Baron. "You're welcome."

"I didn't know you could whistle like that, Chicky."

"I work with kids. This is pretty much the same thing."

"Thank you, Haru." Baron righted his hat – not that it needed it, but Haru had a suspicion it was an automatic tic – and stepped forward to the gathering of spirits. "Yes, we believe we conversed with Mother Nature and – yes – we believe that she has been overcome by the darkness. She asked us to pass a message onto the Guardians of Childhood."

The Guardians' attention tangibly sharpened upon the foot-high Creation.

"She's failed and she needs you to mend her mistakes. She's sorry."

There was a hollow silence.

"Is that it?" Bunnymund demanded. "What bleeding good are we meant to do with that?"

"What mistakes?" North asked.

"She didn't say," Baron said. "I had hoped that you might be able to provide some light on the subject."

"We have not heard from Mother Nature in long time," North said.

"She's what you might call an impartial party, mate. She usually keeps to herself."

"So what does that mean for us?" Haru asked. "What do we do? You're the Guardians – I thought you dealt with this kind of stuff! The world is drowning in a global disaster right now and it needs you lot to step up and mend whatever has gone wrong! Haven't you seen the storm outside? It's–" Haru hesitated, for the howling gale beyond the ice palace's interior had died away. There was a hollow silence which the wind and snow had once filled.

The rest heard this emptiness also.

"That's good, right?" Muta grunted. "Tell me that's good."

"The storm's gone," Jack said, flying up to the nearest window.

"We only know it's stopped here," Tooth reminded them all. "Who knows what's going on in the rest of the world right now."

"But if it's stopped here, perhaps it's gone for good, right?" the winter spirit persisted. "Perhaps whatever went wrong is back to normal."

Haru wasn't so sure. The silence that filled the air was an eerie emptiness; the calm before the storm. Which implied that there were only worse storms to come. She noticed the Sandman mutely trying to attract the attention of his fellow Guardians as he pointed sharply to something. Haru followed his gestures across the room.

"Um... I don't think we're quite out of the woods just yet."

The shadows were back.


	7. Sunday 7th December

Sunday 7th December 2014

The Guardians didn't hear her. They weren't listening, but it didn't matter. Upon the shadows dripping like poison into the room – pooling in blackened spills – an uneasy tension soaked the cold air. It made Haru's heart beat a little faster, made her lips dry and a prickle of nerves tickle her bones. She saw Baron raise a gloved hand to his hat and tap subconsciously at the brim – whenever nerves or boredom overtook him, his fingers would become restless – but she knew this was a case of nerves, not the latter.

It didn't matter that the Guardians didn't hear her, because they innately sensed something change in the air they breathed; felt it trigger some primal instinct of fear. One-by-one they dropped into silence and spotted the darkness spreading further into the room.

"Baron," Haru whispered. "Baron, what do we do?"

She was out of her depth here. She wasn't part of the crazy world of Creations and magic and spirits – not really. She could fend off the occasional wayward fearling, but this was not her world. She turned to the Creation standing by her side. "Baron?"

He had dropped his hand from his hat, but his fingers were still restless, agitatedly picking at the white gloves. "I think that we've talked so long on the subject that Mother Nature is finally coming to us," he said.

He looked to her, and she saw the wavering fear in his eyes. Their last encounter with Mother Nature had far from left her unharmed and she knew the thoughts that were running through his mind this time.

"Haru, I want you to stand behind me," he bluntly instructed. "The shadows went for you last time; we don't want a repeat."

She didn't point out that the shadows could go easily around him. If it made him feel better, she would let him stand before her – and she would have to hope that the shadows hadn't broadened their interests onto less-human prey. She didn't miss how Muta and Toto came to stand by her sides either.

"Damn darkness," Bunnymund was heard to mutter. He slipped his boomerangs into his paws, sharing in the uneasy tension all the Guardians were now feeling. "Are you going to hide in the shadows all day or are ya going to face us, yer yellow-bellied blighter?!" he yelled. "Or are ya frightened?!"

"Frightened?" A sharp feminine voice cut through the air behind the bunny, followed by an equally-sharp, short laugh. "What is there to be frightened of? You?"

Bunnymund spun, ready to release his boomerangs, but he stared at empty air.

The shadows were creeping further across the room, growing ever closer to the Guardians and their guests. Toothania was fluttering nervously from spot to spot, hovering higher as some of the shadows flickered up towards her. North had both hands on his swords, but hadn't drawn either yet. Sandy had summoned a whip with his golden dream dust, and the shadows seemed reluctant to draw any closer, while Jack's staff was emitting a spread of ice that kept the thickest shadows at bay.

"I've never seen a ragtag group of such ill-fitting individuals in my life," the disembodied voice laughed. The darkness was creeping up the walls now and were edging ever upwards. Haru watched as they neared the windows and then started to slowly crawl over the frosted glass. "You lot can barely hold your own, especially when you're so tangled up in your own little worlds. You don't really have much to do with each other except when things go wrong, do you?" More laughter. "I suppose you should thank me for bringing you together."

"I don't know what you mean," North grumbled. "We work plenty fine together."

"Who do you think took down Pitch last time?" Bunnymund demanded, becoming ever more vocal in his nerves. The darkness around his feet was playing around his paws; he could feel them idly tickling at his fur. He banged at his chest. "We did it once, we can do it again!"

"You barely did though, didn't you?" the voice replied. "And it wasn't really you, was it, Bunnymund? The only ones who have any real power against the shadows are the Sandman and Jack Frost... but not you, I'm afraid. So what good did you do last time?"

"Hey, hey, we all worked together to defeat Pitch!" Jack snapped. He knocked his staff into the ground and widened his carpet of ice, beating the shadows further back. "We all helped."

"Well, you tried, didn't you?" The voice seemed to roll over to where the winter sprite stood, still bodiless but seemingly occupying the space closer to him. "Of course, it would have been a lot easier had you not gone looking for your memories – oh, the Guardians could have done with your help back then, couldn't they? But where were you? _Where were you when they needed you?_" The hollow laughter rang through the hall. "Perhaps it's just as well that you were invisible to the humans for so long. Who knows how many more times you would have made a mess of everything if you had tried to help?"

"SHUT UP!"

The staff was slammed into the floor again, and this time the ice crackled right across the room and curved halfway up the wall. The shadows caught in the blast froze, but the rest of the darkness only stirred more.

Haru edged closer to Baron. She swallowed nervously and slipped a hand into his palm. "These guys are... pretty powerful, aren't they?" she whispered. Up until now, she had imagined them mostly bumbling about their lives, easily distracted and somewhat harmless. But the magic that had just exploded from Jack Frost could have frozen her in a heartbeat.

"Yes," Baron replied. "Which is why we need their help."

Haru's throat had just dried up and her next words were hoarse in coming. "No kidding."

The shadows swirled and rose up, twisting around to the Belief Globe. It amassed and a woman's form solidified into being, sitting idly atop the globe. This was Mother Nature, but not as they had first met her.

Her eyes were nothing but beetle-black pinpricks now, her sharp face accented even further by the pale pallor and long shadows falling over her skin. Her hair still flowed in that eerie nonexistent current, but now her dress was a matching black. There was a coldness to her that made Haru feel that the ice Jack wielded was mere child's play.

They were dealing with an ancient power here.

A thin-lipped smile moved tightly over the woman's lips.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. The Big Four – or I guess it's the Big Five now – all gathered here over little old me. Why, it's enough to make a girl blush."

North stepped forward. "Emily–"

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" The spirit rose in a storm of shadows curling into nightmares at her feet. She caught herself and composed her icy exterior once again. She dropped back onto the Belief Globe. "Not anymore."

The shadows were growing restless now. Haru stepped closer to Baron and the light magic he held to try to keep the worst at bay. She still had the wounds from their last encounter.

"Mother Nature, please, what do you want?" Toothania asked, nervously flying up to the globe but carefully keeping a safe distance. "You must be able to see what you're doing to the world – what you're doing to the people with your storms. Why?"

"Why not?"

"How about 'cause you're sworn to protect them?" Bunnymund demanded.

"You are. I have no such obligation," Mother Nature said. She sighed, rolling her head back before dropping her dead stare back to her audience. "Don't the humans just rub you up the wrong way? Doesn't it get boring pampering the spoilt little brats? Leaving coins beneath their pillows for what? For memories? What good do they do you? Or what about the presents you make for Christmas?" she demanded, moving her gaze from Toothania to North. "You say it's about wonder, but it's a wonder why you keep making the gifts when half of them will end up on the tip before the next Christmas."

"The children need wonder," North insisted.

"Oh, I'm sure; just like they need hope, and dreams, and memories, and fun... but what good has it ever done you?"

"What we do with our powers is none of your business," Bunnymund snapped with a wave of his boomerangs. "I thought you were meant to stay out of our affairs."

Mother Nature shrugged. "I changed my mind."

Jack Frost's gaze narrowed. "What changed it?" he asked.

Mother Nature melted away and she rose back out of the shadows on the tiled floor. Like Pitch, she was tall and thin, almost gaunt in her form. She appeared behind the winter spirit, making him jump and spin quickly to face her.

She glanced idly along the path of icy destruction that Jack had previously left, silently appraising the power of the newest Guardian. "Let's just say that I had a little help in that department," she eventually answered. "Why have all this power and let it go to waste? Why sit in my ivory tower and let the humans destroy this world that I have watched for so long?"

"But if you try to destroy the humans, you'll destroy the world in the process," Tooth pointed out. "You'll destroy everything."

"The humans are already doing a good job of that as it is," the elemental spirit snapped. "And I am stronger now – I have the shadows at my disposal."

"Can't you see? You're not controlling them – they're controlling you!" Bunnymund retorted. "This..." he said, motioning to her with a swing of his boomerangs, still in hand, "isn't Mother Nature. This is a bundle of anger and fear and fearling with a whole lotta power."

The dark eyes flashed and a flicker of something else moved behind them. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"Didn't ya hear? We took down Pitch. We can take down you too."

"So you keep reminding me." Mother Nature – or the thing that resided in Mother Nature's form – smiled. "But I am not Pitch. I am far, far worse."

"So why come here?" Jack demanded. "Why come and warn us? Don't tell me you have a sense of fair play."

Mother Nature laughed. "Hardly. It was more a matter of... seeing what opposition I had." Her gaze travelled past the spirits and onto the smaller residents. "I was expecting five Guardians and it looks like I got a meddling Cat Bureau for free."

As the attention moved to them, the light in Baron's hands intensified; Haru could now feel the heat from where she stood. "You came to _us_ for help," the Creation reminded the elemental spirit.

"That was an accident."

"You wanted the Guardians to undo the damage you had done," Baron pushed on, regardless. He paused. "Or perhaps you were asking them to undo the damage you were going to do. You must have known the fearlings were close to winning; you needed the Guardians to be braced for when this happened. For when the fearlings took over entirely."

Mother Nature laughed again, but the humour never reached her pitch black eyes. "My, my, the doll _is_ observant." She seemed to straighten somehow, despite already being at her full height, and the shadows spread further. "Yes, I came to you to stop this happening, but now it has, well... now I don't really want you lot meddling in my affairs anymore. So this is my warning to you – stay out of my way."

"Sorry, mate, but that's not going to happen."

"Why? Do you think you can really defeat me? You may be Guardians, but you are not unkillable. My nightmares can still destroy you, my cold winds bite you, my lightning strike you... and that goes for you Creations also. Just because you are not fully flesh-and-blood, don't imagine that makes you impervious to my power." She smiled, but her eyes rested on the tiny human shielded by Baron. "And humans are so exceptionally fragile. It would be a shame for anything to happen to that pretty little thing."

Baron growled, his hackles rising.

"Oh, don't worry, Creation. You toys are barely worth my time. Keep out of my way and I'll have no reason to come after you or your pretty little friend. But you... Guardians... now, you could turn out to be a difficulty..." The shadows grew restless again, straining to break free from their two-dimension existence and stifling out yet more of the light filtering through the windows. "And you've been so kind as to gather together – that should make the task _so_ much easier..."

The same poisonous fear shivered through the air again and Haru tried to startle back. But Baron's hand that was holding hers tightened, keeping her from fleeing anywhere. He couldn't defend any of the Bureau if they weren't near him. Mother Nature wasn't aiming for the Bureau, but they could easily end up as collateral damage.

The Guardians were her targets, and it looked like the contagious fear was spreading to them too. Weapons were drawn, and the temperature dropped as Jack's ice readied itself to be released.

"Yer don't frighten us," Bunnymund muttered.

"You forget, I have the shadows now," Mother Nature laughed. She was barely more than a silhouette now, with darkness falling over the room and the only light coming from Sandy, Baron's magic, and the last remains of the free windows. She took a slow, steady breath. "I know what everyone fears. I can _taste_ your terror in the air..."

"I ain't afraid of the dark!" the Guardian snapped and spun his boomerangs across the room. Mother Nature disappeared and rose out of the shadows a moment later.

"Everyone's afraid of something. And I always know what. Not that it matters," she sighed, sweeping across the room, her dark hair floating serenely behind her. "You don't have long to appreciate the finesse of my art..."

The shadows broke free of the floor and snapped into monstrous forms. Haru recognised them as the same kind of beings as the fearlings – except instead of just feeding from fear, they hungered for blood. With Mother Nature's attention on the Guardians, the darkness sprung for the spirits – but the nearest shadows still smelt the tantalising scent of human fear. She backtracked into Baron as the closest monsters tried to claw at her.

The Creation spun and emitted the same blast of light as before – but this time the shadows were stronger. They recoiled and then sprung again. Baron tried to repeat the light, but his magic was limited; this time the glow barely made them wince.

The Guardians were faring little better. Tooth was not practiced for battle, while North and Bunnymund's attacks were only half-effective. They beat the monsters back, only for them to jump back a moment later. Jack's ice froze them where they stood, but new shadows would rise up from the old.

"These aren't like Pitch's shadows!" he said as he joined his fellow Guardians.

"Aye, that's 'cause they've got Mother Nature on their side, mate. She'd be a force all by herself."

There was a cry as one of the shadows struck Tooth down from the air.

"What do we do?" Jack shouted. "We're not making any difference!"

North turned to where the mute Guardian stood. "Sandy! We need backup!"

Sandy stood at the edge of the fight, his golden sand spiralling about his feet and keeping the shadows at bay. He looked conflicted, his light rippling away from him as he watched Mother Nature in the centre of the chaos. At the Christmas spirit's shout, he seemed to snap out of his thoughts.

Two golden whips crackled into existence in his palms, and still he hesitated. He glanced to where his fellow Guardians were struggle to fight off the darkness, and something set in his small shoulders. He looked back to Mother Nature and his light went flying through the air, cutting through the shadows as they were caught in the crossfire. Both whips struck Mother Nature's back and her body twitched where she stood.

She stumbled, but kept herself from hitting the ground. The shadows had fallen as if struck also, and now the darkness was falling away from the walls they clung to. She slowly turned to face her attacker, and a strangely bittersweet smile crossed her lips. "Now... is that a way to greet an old friend...?"

She started to sink back into the shadows – injured, but not fatally so – and the other Guardians were shouting for him to deliver another blow to stop her escape. Sandy hesitated, but at the last moment he brought the whips up for a final strike... but he had been too slow and Mother Nature – or what remained of her – was gone into the shadows.

Lost – for now.

Jack flew to the mute Guardian's side, glancing to where the darkness had disappeared to. "Hey, nice going back there – it looked like we were goners there for a moment." He leant against his staff to look again to the dream Guardian, dithering for a moment in indecision. "Um... is everything... okay?"

Sandy looked to him, and in that second, Jack doubted that even if Sandy could speak, whether he would have any words to say at this moment. Then that second passed and Sandy grinned and summoned up a fast-paced montage of dream-dust images in lieu of conversation. The images were too fast for Jack to understand, but he suspected that wasn't entirely unintentional.

"Well..."

The Guardians had almost forgotten about their small guests, but the Bureau were still standing – if a little battered and bruised. The human had her hands grasped about her arms in a manner that was meant to appear casual, but the faint tendrils of blood between her fingers indicated a less pleasant explanation.

The Guardians could hold their own in a fight against the darkness. It looked like the Bureau were out of their depth.

The Creation had dropped away his light magic – out of the lack of necessity or because he had used all the power he had, it was hard to tell – and his form was trembling slightly from the strain of the magic he had depended upon. Even the other cat and crow by his side were shaken by their close encounter with the shadows.

Baron met the gaze of the Guardians.

"I think it's time we headed back now."

**ooOoo**

**A/N: I had far too much fun with writing dark!Mother Nature in this chapter. I'm not even sorry. For anyone who's interested, I based dark!Mother Nature's movements and general personality on Eris, from **_**Sinbad Legend of the Seven Seas.**_**  
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**And I apologise for yesterday's and today's ****late chapter - this weekend has unexpectedly busy due to Christmas preparations. Merry Christmas!**

**Cat. **


	8. Monday 8th December

Monday 8th December 2014

"_...and we tried ringing you, but you were out of range – where were you, Haru? We were worried sick! Tsuge kept saying you'd be fine, but you've seen the what the weather's been like. You could have been ill, you could have been in an accident – and we couldn't get through to your phone, so of course we imagined the worst–_"

Haru shifted the phone from one ear to the other as Hiromi ranted, idly trying to light the hob with one hand. "And I've told you, Hiromi; I'm fine. The storm must have been interfering with the signal or something," she calmly answered. That, and the fact she had been somewhere in the North Pole probably didn't help either. "I'm okay."

"_Yeah, well we know that _now_. Seriously though, next time the weather gets bad, you should come to ours. That way we wouldn't have to worry about you so much._"

"You really don't have to worry," Haru replied flatly. The gas hob finally spluttered into life and she set the water to boil.

"_Who else is going to worry for you?_"

"You know, if you're trying to make me feel single and alone, you're doing a jolly good job of it."

Hiromi spluttered in protest on the other end of the line. "_You know what I mean. I'm your friend – of course I'm going to worry for you. It's just... Kasumi, take that crayon out of your mouth!" _There was some distant kerfuffle on the other end of the line, and then Hiromi returned to the phone. "_It's just,_ _you know, if something went wrong, there's no one at home to look after you._"

"Believe me; if anything goes wrong you'll be one of the first to know."

"One_ of the first?_" her friend echoed. "_Should I be jealous that you're sharing your attentions with someone other than moi?_"

"Why, yes, I am _obviously_ stashing a secret lover in the wardrobe," Haru deadpanned.

"What?"

Haru jumped, having forgotten her miniature guests. She turned to the Creation and firmly rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding," she mouthed.

"_Hey, who was that?_" Hiromi piped from the phone. "_That sounded suspiciously like a guy..._"

Haru's heart sunk. "It's... um..." She glared at Baron, and managed, "It's my... uh, cousin."

"_You don't have any cousins_."

"Family friend. Practically a cousin. He's just visiting for the day."

"_Really? Just like family? Nothing more?_"

"Shut up, Hiromi."

"You know, he sounds like he has a pretty cute accent..."

"You heard one word from him; I don't think that gives you sufficient knowledge to judge."

"_Mm-hm. So... _is_ he cute?_"

"I thought you were phoning because you were worried about me," Haru snapped.

"I am. I'm just thinking that if you have someone over, I wouldn't have to worry quite so much."

"Alright, Hiromi, I think it's time you hung up the phone. I'm trying to have lunch here."

"_Fine, fine. Hang on – what is it Kasumi? Oh, Haru, Kasumi would like to say hi. Say hello, Kasumi._" The line momentarily went silent and then it was fumbled into the small hands of the elder Tomoko child. "_Auntie Haru?_"

"What is it, Kasumi?"

"_The monsters came back_." The little voice was nigh terrified. "_They came back in the night_."

Haru groaned, one hand running tiredly over her face. She should have guessed as much. "I know," she murmured, "I know." Her hand dropped from her face and subconsciously curled around her battered arms. It could have been worse – but then again, it could have been better also. "Trust me, they're not coming back tonight."

"_How do you know?_"

She glanced out to the blue, clear sky. "Just a gut feeling."

The phone changed hands on the other side of the line, and Hiromi's usually bubbly voice sounded suddenly exhausted. "_Sorry, Haru. Both Kasumi and Michi have been having nightmares for the past few nights – we don't know what to do about it._"

"It's fine," Haru said, although it was far from being so. "I have a feeling they'll have better nights for the next few days. Just... keep an eye on them, okay? If they start to see the monsters, call me and I'll stay over for a night or so. It's the least I can do."

"_Would you? Thank you! And... are you sure you're okay?_"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"_I don't know. It's just a worry_."

Haru laughed. "Believe me, Hiromi; I have everything under control." '_Well, that's a blatant lie_.' "I'll catch you another time, alright? Lunch is calling."

"_Alright. Look after yourself_."

"You too, Hiromi." As she ended the call and dropped the phone onto the side, she spared another glare to Baron. "Thanks for that. As if things weren't complicated enough already."

"I'm sorry." In his defence, he did look somewhat taken aback. "I must have walked in at the wrong point in the conversation."

"I'll say." Now with both hands free, Haru set to filling the boiling water with pasta, sparing another look to the clear sky outside. The storm had stopped with their last encounter with Mother Nature, but enough snow had been left that the school day had been called off. "Is this really over or are we only granting ourselves a brief respite?" she asked.

"It's too early to tell."

"But you have an idea, don't you?" She paused in her pasta-pouring to raise an eyebrow to the Creation. "I can see the gears whirring. We didn't defeat whatever was possessing Mother Nature, did we?"

"I doubt it."

"So... what now?"

"I don't know."

Haru now set the pasta to one side and leant against the table to raise both eyebrows now at her guest. Baron had insisted on coming back with her to make sure she wasn't about to collapse like the first time the shadows had got her. Haru had agreed, mostly because she suspected that he would check on her whether she allowed it or not. And, at least this way she knew where he was. "Whenever your answers become reduced to one-sentence non-conversation starters, I know something's wrong. What are you thinking about?"

"The Guardians are doing all they can to track down Mother Nature before she recovers," said Baron, "but I doubt they will have any luck. The world is a big place and Mother Nature has many places to hide, not least because she now has the shadows at her disposal."

"Or the shadows now have her at theirs," Haru muttered.

"True. And I highly doubt that we have knocked her out of the game for good. I suspect that she is merely biding her time, hiding away while she recovers from her injury. The fact that the global weather crisis has come to a halt indicates that she doesn't have enough power to recover and maintain her storms – but far from reassuring me, that only serves to worry. We are not dealing with a simple mad woman here; we are fighting against someone who can plan and think, someone who is patient and wise and will wait until she has the upper hand before striking. Also, we only assume she is recovering; we have no clue as to where she is or what she is doing. She may have another plan that she intends to carry out. We just don't know."

"That's a whole lot of thoughts," Haru said after a moment.

"We have a whole lot of problems," Baron replied in answer.

"Do you really think the Guardians can handle it?"

"They're our best hope."

The brunette hesitated. "That's not quite the same thing."

"I know."

There was a long silence that settled between them; Haru returning to finish lunch while Baron remained caught up in his own thoughts. She paused again in her task – ignoring the mild discomfort of hunger nipping at her stomach – and returned her attention back to the Creation. "Baron, I need you to do one thing for me."

"Anything, Haru."

"I need you to tell me the truth."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

'_I don't know_,' Haru's mind answered. '_That's what worries me_.' "I need to know you won't try to hide what's going on from me. I know you're worried for me – for the entire Bureau," she was quick to add, "but we can't make our own decisions if you're withholding information from us."

"Haru, do you really think I would do such a thing?"

"I think that you might feel the need to protect us," she slowly answered, picking her words carefully. "And I think that sometimes makes you short-sighted. We need to work together on this."

"We?"

"Yes, _we_. I know that for all your talk of not getting involved, it's a habit you can't break. It's who you are, Baron. Just like it's who I am not to leave my friends in the lurch."

"Haru, even with what little magic I have, I can barely protect myself – let alone you," Baron said. "If Mother Nature had wanted to destroy us, she could have done it in an instant."

"Then why didn't she?"

"She was focused on the Guardians and they're made of hardier stuff. We were simply causalities. But I fear that the more we nose into this business, the less likely she'll leave us be."

Haru shook her head. "I don't believe you. Are you seriously suggesting we just lie low?"

'_No. That's what I'm suggesting you do,_' Baron thought, but he knew that if he voiced such thoughts, she would grow even more stubborn. He withstood Haru's questions in silence.

"Because if she succeeds then none of us will be left unscathed. I'm fighting to protect those I love as much as you are – I've seen the terror the mere fearlings leave in Kasumi and Michi and I don't want them to have to suffer through anything worse. And it _will_ get worse if we let it go unhindered. I can't just stand here and do… _do nothing_."

"And what exactly do you plan on doing then, Haru?"

The brunette deflated. "I don't know," she admitted. "Believe me, I'm hoping as much as you that this all comes to nothing. Who knows? Perhaps we're wrong," she sighed, although the disbelief was thick in her words. "Perhaps we really have seen the last of the storms. Wouldn't that be nice?"

'_Although who's stupid enough to believe that?_'

ooOoo

The Globe Room was silent that evening, save for the flutter of hummingbird wings. The Belief Globe was warm with the glow of lights – each one representing the belief of a child – which was a welcome reassurance in the darkening days. In the Arctic, winter had come and the sun had set many days back – night lasted months here. In fact, at the height of Christmas, the Arctic was at its darkest; the yetis and elves had to work by the flicker of lamps until the sun finally rose again – months from now.

And yet, for all the lamps and lights of the room, they couldn't banish the squat corner of darkness that held the caught fearling. Even captured in the ball, it seemed to throw shadows far greater than its size should have allowed.

There was the swing of the doors and then the sturdy tread of boots across the floor.

"Tsk. Nasty thing, isn't it?"

Tooth hovered nervously at the edge of the shadows, watching the darkness as it squirmed in its cage. She shivered and wrapped her arms closer about her. "Yes."

North's heavy hand came down on her shoulder, and almost knocked her from the air. "Do not worry. We have everything under control."

Tooth gave a light chuckle at the man's continuous optimism, but didn't take her eyes off the fearling. It writhed against the interior as it sensed her gaze, beating at the glass and shifting into ugly, monstrous forms. "My fairies are out there looking," she said, breaking the silence again, "but they would have come to me if they had found anything. Plus they have to do double duty. Not all of us only get to work one day a year, you know," she said, but the humour she usually gave with such comeback was hollow this time.

"The yetis have found nothing either," North admitted. He groaned and ran one hand through his beard. "And so close to Christmas too…"

"Don't let Bunny hear you say that," Tooth weakly warned him. "You know how he feels about that."

The man shrugged. "Everyone loves Christmas."

"Let's just hope we _have_ a Christmas after this." Tooth glanced to the Belief Globe, and then back to the fearling in the glass. "After all the effort we put Jack through to get it, did the fearling ever tell us anything in the end?"

"Of course it did. We now know that fearlings _are_ stronger. After all, most fearlings would be weak this close to a centre of belief," North said with far more brightness to his words than should befit the topic. "And, who knows? Maybe it will talk."

Tooth looked over the mass of squirming darkness captured in the miniature globe. "I'm not so sure about that. Anyway," she added, "we now know exactly how strong the fearlings are. The darkness took over Mother Nature, after all. If we didn't have Sandy back there…"

She glanced back to the suddenly-silent spirit.

"North?"

"Just thinking," he answered gruffly. "When was last full moon?"

"I don't know. Last week, I guess? Why?"

The Christmas Guardian glanced up to one of the windows; though it was night outside, it wasn't truly black for the moon – which was rising slowly from the dark horizon – cast a monochromic glow over the snow. He released a deep sigh. "How could Manny let such thing happen? To have the fearlings growing bolder, and now _this_ with Mother Nature..." He shook his head sadly. "We are in for tough time."

The waning moon shone a pale light across the icy kingdom, but remained as silent as ever. Its nocturnal glow was the only light on the snowy wastes, save for the weak flicker of the workshop's lanterns.

"If the fearlings overpowered Mother Nature when the moon was so full," Tooth murmured, "then how powerful must they have become in the last year?" Her bright eyes flickered to her fellow Guardian. They all knew that Manny's watch over the world was at its best when he cast his light across the earth; somehow it seemed to strengthen them a little, and keep the shadows a little more at bay.

"I don't know," North muttered.

Tooth's wings fluttered faster and she bit back the desire to flit to and fro the room. Her toes curled instead, resisting the instinct.

She was not the most powerful of the Guardians. She could not fight in the same way the others could; she could not destroy the shadows like Sandy or Jack could, and she did not have the weapons that Bunnymund or North did. She was just Tooth – yes, she was Queen Toothania, but that hadn't been her doing. Her title had been an accident – a horrible accident.

What was she queen of? A dead race.

And yet she still fought.

"What do you think will happen when we reach a new moon?" She didn't try to pretend that any of this would be over by then. This misadventure carried a weight that would not be shook off so easily. What would happen when Manny's light no longer shone over them? Would the shadows – already so strong with Pitch gone and Mother Nature in their grasp – grow stronger then? "What do we do then?"

"We fight," North said.

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Firstly, a big thank you to Waterpokemon who picked up not one, but three typos in the last chapter. *sheepishly* I guess this is what I get for writing so late, huh. Hopefully it's all fixed now. Also, for those of you who may be a little confused right now - I am planning on using backstory and details provided in the books. Which I haven't read, but I have researched. **

**Also, on the topic of Toothania... I love her character and I know she is pretty kickass in the books, but she's portrayed as much younger and more vulnerable in the film. And since this is technically a crossover with the film, I'm starting with the character provided there. But, never fear; there shall be much butt-kicking and name-taking by the girls (and I do mean plural) later on. I just need time to let her grow. **

**Merry Christmas,**

**Cat.**


	9. Tuesday 9th December

_"You pathetic toys. Are you useless to me?" _

Pitch.

x

Tuesday 9th December 2014

The Tomoko household was ablaze with festivity, even with the aftermath of the snow storm still cluttering up the street. Outside, the air was cold and the wind was sharp – and Tsuge's car still had a dent from the young tree that had fallen across it – but inside the Tomoko home it was warm and bright.

The occupants had almost forgotten about the storm that had threatened to tear apart their ordinary little lives, as the Christmas jingles ringing out from the CD player and the smell of warm mince pies drowned out all unpleasant thoughts.

Well, almost.

Haru had paused in the festivities to glance out again to the snow-laden street beyond. She still worried that at any moment Mother Nature would rise back up and the storm would strike with renewed vigour. They weren't safe until it was dealt with.

Hiromi had invited her friend over to help with putting up the Christmas decorations – being as good as family, Hiromi insisted, although Haru also suspected that the smaller brunette was somewhat worried for her – and so, here she stood, glitter shedding from her every time she breathed and a string of tinsel tied around her waist.

"Haru, stop gawking out the window and get over here!" Hiromi demanded. This was coupled with a blob of tinsel being thrown her way and a shedload of more moulting glitter. "Get your head out of the clouds!"

"Sorry." Haru picked the tinsel off her and tried to sidestep the labyrinth of baubles littering the floor. It was just a little difficult to concentrate on their festivities when she knew how much was at stake.

"Geez, Haru; cheer up. We didn't invite you here to mope and gorge yourself on our mince pies."

"I haven't touched the mince pies," Haru protested. Regardless, she stepped away from the window and started to untangle a mess of streamers; no matter how tidily they were put away last year, they were always twisted the next.

"Yet," Hiromi said. "You forget; I know your appetite."

'_If only you had seen Muta's_,' Haru thought. She bit back a smile, but her friend saw the twitch of the lips.

"There we go! _That's_ the smile I'm looking for!" Hiromi bounced to Haru and pinched both cheeks, dragging Haru's lips into a reluctant smile. "Come on, bring that smile out to play!" Haru pushed her friend away, but not before she had burst into laughter.

"Gettoff, Hiromi!" Haru ruefully rubbed at her cheeks, but she was smiling now. "You're a menace. You'd think the years would mellow you... Or even tame you somewhat."

"Tame me? No fear!" Hiromi seized a nearby strand of tinsel and wound it around her like a scarf, striking a dramatic pose. "I aim to be as wild as the day we first met! You, of all people, Haru, should know that I will never mellow!"

Haru flicked the end of the tinsel into Hiromi's face. "Oh well, I guess I can dream."

Tsuge watched the proceedings with a patient smile, quite familiar with his wife's antics around her old school friend. His daughter tugged at his sleeve, and – with a tattered golden star in hand – pointed to the tree. He hoisted her up and helped her to place the topmost decoration. In the background, Hiromi was chasing a giggling Haru around the living room.

Their laughter – mingled with the tinny tune of Christmas carols – could be heard muffled through the bright windows. Hidden in the darkness of the evening, Baron stood before the windowsill, watching the apparently carefree family.

Although he tried his best, he couldn't rid himself of the worry for one beautiful brunette in particular. Mother Nature's warning words rattled between his ears, an echo of his worst fear. He glanced once up to the moon, still round and bright despite the beginning of its wan.

"Look after her... please..." he murmured.

And then he immediately felt foolish.

He dropped his gaze and returned to watching the household. Haru and her friend had stopped crashing about the lounge and were now singing loudly to a rendition of "_Last Christmas_", Haru picking up the youngest child as she belted out the lyrics.

The Man in the Moon rarely spoke to the Guardians, let alone to some wayward product of Sandy's magic. Creations like him had little to do with the Guardians or their role of looking after the children of the world – but, at that moment, he wished they did. Then perhaps the Man in the Moon would listen. Then perhaps he would keep Haru safe.

A gentle glow alighted beside him, and the gleam of golden sand betrayed the incoming presence of the Sandman. Baron turned and tipped his hat to the Guardian. "Good evening, Sandy. How goes the search?"

The silent Guardian grimaced and shook his head.

No luck there then.

It looked like they were far from out of the woods just yet.

"The longer we take to find her, the more I fear for the repercussions," Baron murmured. This was more to himself than anything, but his words did not go unheard by the newcomer.

Sandy tilted his head to one side and gestured to the street with a swirl of dream sand. The meaning was obvious to the Creation: _Why don't you help with the search then?_

"And if I did find her?" Baron asked. "What then? I don't have the power that you do – that any of the Guardians do – I would have no chance against her." And then Mother Nature's warning rang again in his ears. His eyes flickered back to Haru – so oblivious, so human, so never meant to get caught up in any of this craziness – and he couldn't let anything happen to her. This was not her battle.

Sandy caught the momentary flicker. He frowned and a question mark formed above his head.

"She's just a friend," Baron said. "Just a human who shouldn't be involved in any of this. She wouldn't be, if it wasn't for the Bureau." He smiled wanly. "The trouble is, now she knows what is going on, she will not back down. She's stubborn like that."

Sandy detected something else in the Creation's tone, and the golden sand swirled uneasily above his head. For not the first time, he seemed mildly frustrated with his limited communication. Eventually it formed into a rough image of Haru, and then shifted into the sharp features of Mother Nature. It seemed he had also heard the spirit's threat against the young woman.

"Am I staying out of this to protect Haru from Mother Nature?" Baron translated.

Sandy nodded. It was a rough enough translation of his question.

The figurine glanced back to the happy house, with its festive music and the laughing occupants dancing about the lounge, and a rueful smile flickered before his features. "Maybe. But then," he added, turning his green eyes to the Guardian, "we both have a tendency for poor foresight when it comes to friendship, don't we?"

Sandy was suddenly no longer interested in staring down the Creation.

"She was a friend once, am I right?" Baron's smile saddened. "I'm guessing you knew her before... before all this started." He sighed. "I don't envy the position you stand in right now, my friend."

There was a soft rush of wind and Baron was once again alone on the windowsill.

Oblivious to the watchers outside, the Tomoko family and Haru continued to work merrily at decorating the house. Haru was working hard to string the streamers across the room, all with three-year-old Michi – the Tomoko's son – hoisted up in her arms. He seemed to enjoy the sudden growth spurt, happily trying to help push the streamers into place all while helplessly giggling.

Hiromi was belting out the words to "_God rest ye merry, gentlemen_," unabashedly slamming down on the low notes with a gruff, belly-rolling tone. Haru made a face to her friend.

"Fabulous, Hiromi. You should sing professionally."

Hiromi was quick to detect the sarcasm. She raised a hand to her mouth, shocked. "Don't you like my singing?"

"I'm going to direct that question to Tsuge instead."

Tsuge's eyebrows raised so suddenly that they almost disappeared into his dark hair. "Hey, I'm staying out of this."

"Aw, come on, _dear_," Hiromi laughed. "You can be perfectly honest with me – that is, if your honest opinion is that I sing like an angel. If not, you can lie like heck."

Haru threw a bauble at the other woman. "You're shameless."

"And fabulous, so you said."

"Sarcasm, my dear."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"You're welcome, Sergeant Sarcasm."

Even with their hands full, both women managed a hasty high-five to the other. Kasumi, who was being held in her father's embrace while she helped with the Christmas tree, looked up to Tsuge. "Why are they high-fiving?"

Tsuge laughed. "Don't ask me, kid. Perhaps you'll understand when you're older."

"You always say that."

"Darling, even I don't understand, and I'm old."

"Hey, Haru!" Hiromi called. "Are you going carol singing next week?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"You must! Or how else will you get into the Christmas spirit?!"

Haru looked helpless at her friend, and then gestured lightly to their current activity. "Oh, I don't know; I guess I'll find a way," she stated flatly.

"You haven't even been to the Christmas market yet!"

"It's only been open for the past week."

"Exactly! You've had a whole week and you still haven't gone!"

"I'll find time for it," Haru promised. "I've got a whole month of festivity, right?"

"You've got only a month of festivity – not even that anymore! Think of all the movies we've got to watch, the pantomimes we need to attend, the Christmas shopping that needs doing, the decorations that need putting up, the snowball fights that need playing and the Christmas music that needs singing! We must cram as much Christmas spirit as we can into this mere month!"

Haru, having suddenly found herself in a tight embrace – courtesy of Hiromi – squealed and tried to elbow her way free without squishing Michi. "Hiromi – Hiromi – you're mushing your son! Gettoff me!"

"Never! Not until you submit to the joy of this time!"

"What are you – the advocate of Christmas or something? Release me, you troublemaker."

"Grinch."

"Maniac."

"Scrooge."

"Meddling elf-wannabe."

"Spoilsport."

"Crazy lady."

Hiromi released her friend, sticking out her tongue. "That makes two of us then."

"Thank you for being such good role models for our kids, ladies," Tsuge deadpanned.

Baron watched the friends burst into freeing laughter, and his heart skipped a beat. This should be the life that Haru should have – one without worries that the world was going to end, that the darkness was closing in – not the one where she had to fight off fearlings and fear from possessed spirits.

He had seen the way she had stared into the snowy street earlier – the way the worry had tired her eyes and strained her smile. True, she was laughing and dancing now, but he knew it was only temporary. When the evening's festivities were over – when the pace slowed and conversation calmed – he had no doubt that her mind would flicker back to the dangers that awaited this world.

Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if she would be better off if she knew nothing of the Bureau.

If she hadn't saved that cat, all those years ago, and set today's circumstances into motion.

A shiver ran along his fur and he suddenly became aware of the feeling that he wasn't truly alone. That he hadn't been alone for a while now. The grip on his cane tightened and he raised one hand to steady his hat as he sensed the darkness behind him. He spun, cane bared, ready to defend himself and the household he guarded.

There was nothing.

Nothing, but the flicker of a shadow disappearing.

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Sorry for the day-late chapter – ahem, the Christmas spirit and festivities are well underway in my own life, even if the weather is uncannily warm and sunny for this time of year right here – so I've been busy. I am already working on today's chapter.**

**And for those of you who were asking, my Tumblr account is "catsafarithewriter" and has the same profile picture as my one. (I have a main one – **_**catsafari25**_** – which is full of my other fandoms, but **_**catsafarithewriter**_** is probably going to be more TCR. Or you could just follow both. It really depends how much you want to procrastinate.)**

**Merry Christmas,**

**Cat.**


	10. Wednesday 10th December

_"I once had a Fearling prince slip out of my grasp, but it won't happen again. But before I turn you into a Fearling princess, I want to hear one last scream." _

Pitch.

x

Wednesday 10th December 2014

In the darkness, far beyond the prying eyes of the Guardians and their minions, Mother Nature paced. Shadows flickered eagerly at her feet, devotedly following their new leader as she prowled the expanse of her retreat.

It had been humiliating to have been sent running back like that – a shameful first display of her fresh powers and the challenge she brought. To have been forced to flee like a dog with its tail between its legs... She should have just struck down the Guardians from the beginning, but something had stopped her. It felt suspiciously like... pride.

She knew she was more powerful than any mere Guardian – by themselves, anyway. But when the Guardians were gathered together, they were a threat.

So she would have to make sure they didn't stay together long...

As she turned, a twinge of pain shot up from where Sandy's double strike had hit. She mistepped, and then stopped, ruefully rubbing between her shoulder blades where the wound still festered. She had been foolish to have become so overconfident – or to think that they wouldn't be able to strike out at her.

She should have known the dream magic of the Sandman would cut through her nightmares.

She paused in her pacing and swirled the darkness between her fingers. The dream substance did not flow like sand, but poured like loose tar, rippling in ugly curves around her hand. Her father had been too narrow-minded in his approach – he had been too focused on the idea that darkness was merely a cold, detached entity.

She knew better.

The darkness was no one thing. No one dreamt the same nightmare. Not really.

Yes, darkness could be cold and lonely. But it could also be hot and suffocating. It could be the heat of a raging fire or the ice of a blizzard. It could be the crack of thunder or the silence of a wasteland. It could be the flooding of a storm or the dryness of the desert.

And she, with all her elemental power, had the potential to amend Pitch's fatal oversight.

There was a sharp gust of wind and one of her father's created nightmares – her father's steed, Onyx – swept into her refuge and the shadows rose up in excitement. It galloped to her side and she absent-mindedly reached out to scratch its ears. Its breath smelt like tar and brimstone.

"The trouble is that the Guardians are still too united," she murmured to her companion. It was strange, how out of all the shadows and nightmares, the ones that seemed most intelligent were the ones Pitch had adapted from Sandy's own dream dust. She guessed being a Guardian did grant certain powers. "I cannot take them all on."

Onyx huffed and nudged against her.

"Maybe I could defeat the fairy or the bunny, or even the old man all together, but the Sandman and the frost boy... They were the biggest threat against my father. We need a way to push them apart..."

Again, her steed gave another snort.

Mother Nature seemed to take some meaning from this, pausing to consider a thought. "What do you mean by that? How can I give them a threat they can't take down? All they care about is their stupid humans, or the children, at least..." She trailed off, and her dark eyes suddenly seemed to blacken further.

"Oh... Oh, of course. We'd need to use a child that has come in close contact with Guardian magic..." She grinned. "Or Creation. It amounts to the same thing. My father had the idea for a Winter Princess once before; it shouldn't be too hard to replicate his work. It can't be too difficult to create a Winter Princess... or Prince. Now all we need is a willing subject..."

The nightmare snorted and breathed an idea into the spirit's mind.

Mother Nature's thin-lipped smile slowly widened.

"Perfect."

ooOoo

Haru lurched awake with the sudden surety of something gone wrong. Her eyes took several seconds to adjust to the darkness, picking out the glow of the streetlamps outside and the twinkle of Christmas lights on the tree. She was sweating, as if surfacing from a petrifying nightmare.

And yet everything seemed in place.

The room was still and silent, but not unnaturally so. The Christmas tree lights gave the room a somewhat surreal rainbow tone, but didn't do much to banish the darkness away. After last night – a night of much entertainment and Christmas festivity – it had been too far into the night for Hiromi to even consider letting her best friend walk home alone. Or walk home at all.

So Haru had nodded and smiled when the other woman insisted she stayed at their home for the night, just because it wasn't only dark and late but the roads were still slippy with ice.

She flicked the nearby lamp on, only for it to snap on and then give a sudden flare before falling back into darkness. Haru played around with the switch a few more times before conceding that the light bulb had, indeed, just blown a fuse.

She groaned and pushed herself to her feet. There was no way she was going to go straight back to sleep now anyway. Her heart was still pounding and something felt truly wrong.

She ran a hand through her hair, setting it back into place after sleeping on the sofa, and eyed the ticking clock across the room. She had at least six more hours before anyone else even started to stir, and the Tomoko family were pretty heavy sleepers. She ambled her way to the kitchen and set the kettle going, moving on to the cupboards for some tea.

"This is what happens if you spend too much time with the Bureau," she quietly berated herself. "You have one bad nightmare and suddenly you're sure something's wrong." She sighed, somewhat embarrassed at her own foolishness. "I could do without the raging paranoia, thank you very much."

The kitchen lights were working at least, which was a small mercy. Haru wasn't sure her already-stretched nerves could take another fuse blowing on her. While waiting for the kettle to boil, she leant towards one of the windows; with the darkness beyond, the glass served as a mirror of sorts. She pulled at the bags beneath her eyes, slowly blinking at her reflection in a vain attempt to clear the overt signs of tiredness. She wrinkled her nose. The strange, sour taste of sleep was on her tongue and she didn't smell too good for having slept on the sofa.

The kettle was finally whistling and Haru turned away from her reflection – but not before something flickered beyond the glass.

She paused, her hand halfway to collecting the kettle. Stared into the darkness. She slowly leant back towards the window; her breath fogging it and her nose brushing against the cold glass. Her hand trailed to the wall and found the light switches. The kettle was still whistling – louder than ever now.

She pressed the switch; the lights went and suddenly the darkness outside wasn't so dark anymore–

And there was a face pressed against the window.

Haru screamed.

She fell back, but the face had already moved on. In a rustle of snapping shadows and sharp smiles, it whisked up and away from the window. Away from Haru. But Haru recalled the face in perfect clarity – the grey skin, the pitted eyes, the mane of sweeping hair – and knew. Knew exactly who she had just seen.

Knew exactly who was moving towards the room above.

To Michi's room.

She turned on her heel and almost flew out of the kitchen; forget keeping quiet – she didn't care if she woke the whole household at this point. She snatched up the fire poker she had used so many times to beat away the darkness before, even though it could not hope to beat away Mother Nature. She could hear the beginning of a wail from the child's room, and she was taking the steps two at a time. Her feet were pounding against the creaking staircase, each floorboard screaming in protest as she thundered upwards.

She skidded onto the first floor and slammed into Michi's door. The handle wouldn't give at first. She fought with the door, struggling to make her way in – there was no lock for Michi's room, but she had no doubt who was responsible for the door's sudden jamming. In the crack between door and carpet, the light flickered; in the gap in the doorframe, Haru could make out the darkness of something – or someone – else in the room beyond.

There was movement from the other rooms now – her antics were surely waking Hiromi and Tsuge – and at last the door gave way. She stormed through and the poker was raised for battle.

The room was empty.

Still, and silent.

And for a few moments Haru wanted to believe she had overreacted. That the Bureau was making her paranoid – and she could have dealt with that. She didn't have to be happy about it, but it was better than the alternative. She was still breathing hard as she lowered the poker and approached the bed of Michi.

Empty.

The poker dropped to the carpet with a muffled clatter. She stepped away at first, and then stepped towards the open window – the curtains ruffling in the night breeze. She barely heard Hiromi enter, curious as to why Haru was racing around the house at some forsaken hour of the morning.

"Haru...? What's up?" Hiromi turned Michi's light on and winced as the darkness abruptly retreated. She yawned and rubbed at the sleepdust behind her eyes. "And I thought it was bad with Michi and Kasumi having nightmares," she tiredly joked. "Could you _be_ any louder?"

Haru turned away from where she now stood at the window; her hands rested faintly against the jambs. Her face was pale and she looked close to collapsing. "Hiromi... I'm so sorry..."

Something in Haru's voice cracked, and Hiromi – still blinking back the sleep – struggled to take stock of the situation. Something was wrong – something was missing – and then she realised what.

"No... No – what – where? Haru... what?"

Haru looked away as her friend collapsed by her empty son's bed, but she couldn't close her ears to the mother's forsaken wail. She forced her eyes shut, squeezing out the tears.

"I'm sorry, Hiromi. I'm so sorry..."

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Yass, finally a little less behind. Or not falling any further behind anyway. Also, I lied about getting this chapter up on time. But not intentionally. (Also I wrote this and then the next night had a really bad sleep, waking up at really odd hours... I'm not sure how I feel about my writing mirroring real life...)**

**Also, okay, so I know it's getting dark. And I know the chapter's short. But, just for reference, you know NaNoWriMo? Yeah, I'm basically doing the equivalent of that this month. (In fact, the word count will probably exceed 50K, and I don't even have a full month to do this...) Plus I'm juggling revision and I'm afraid degree overrides fanfiction, always. (This chapter looked longer on the Word document, I swear...)**

**Cat.**


	11. Thursday 11th December

Thursday 11th December 2014

It was dark when Baron arrived at the window – but it was always dark this time of the year; even when the sun was up, thick grey clouds rolled across the sky, casting a grey pallor over the world. However, even beyond the window it was dark. The flat was quiet and still and something felt eerily wrong to the Creation.

Baron slipped off Toto and landed steadily on the windowsill; a perilous undertaking to anyone else, the figurine did so with enough confidence to indicate this wasn't the first time he had alit before a window pane. This window pane, in particular.

"Perhaps she's out," Toto suggested. Balancing on the windowsill was a little trickier for the bird, but he had the distinct advantage that he could turn falling into flying, if it was called for. "She does have a job, you know."

"The school day ended hours ago," Baron said.

"Perhaps it's a parent-teacher meeting thing this evening. Or she had to stay late." Toto shuffled along the ledge, peering doubtfully into the flat. "You know, you don't have to think the worse every time she doesn't turn up to the Bureau."

"It's not every time that there's a dangerous spirit on the loose," Baron retorted. And something was... unsettling him. He didn't like to entertain the idea that Mother Nature's words had just unnerved him, but that was still better than the alternative. Than any alternative where his paranoia was proven right.

With a sleight of hand, he unhinged the lock and the window swung inwards. Baron hopped through the opening and glanced back to his friend. "Well? Are you coming?"

"I don't know." Even so, the crow followed him in, landing with a clatter on the kitchen counter. "You know she doesn't take well to intrusions."

"I know. But we're just checking on her – she can't object to a couple of her friends dropping by out of care," Baron reasoned, with his usual level of improvisation and general optimism where such plans were concerned. "If everything is fine, then we apologise, perhaps have some tea, and be on our way. No harm done. But I would feel a lot more reassured by checking on her."

"If you say so." Toto flapped uneasily to the kitchen, pushing the switch on with his beak and illuminating the room with the stark electric glow of the ceiling light. The kitchen flickered into sight, clean and white but still empty of Haru. Baron paced along the counter, stopping to where the kettle stood, cold from lack of use.

"She hasn't been back here too recently," Baron said. "She always makes tea when she returns from the school." Just in the same way that he would after any case. But just because she hadn't made tea in the last couple of hours did not mean that something bad had happened. Perhaps she had visited a friend and simply not been home recently. There were plenty of innocuous explanations for her absence... and yet none helped to soothe his nerves.

He cast his gaze across the room and his heart sank a little. Unlike the Tomoko household, this place wasn't full of sparkling lights and newly-bought decorations. Everything looked a little worn, a little old. Only half the Christmas lights strung across the cupboards worked at all, and the wreath hung on the door was tired and battered. Haru had evidently tried to brighten the place up with the drawings that the children gave her, and a smattering of well-intentional Christmas cards.

The woman had often proclaimed herself to be an avid lover of the festive season, but it didn't look like she had had the means to decorate like her friends had this year. Or any years recently. Baron moved further along the counter, spotting a few drawings that looked like they were done by Haru's hand. He paused by one that had the faintest tendrils of colour sketched in and immediately recognised the unusual individuals depicted within.

"Hey, Baron – it looks like Haru's missed a few messages," Toto called. He had hopped to the landline phone and had one talon perched over the buttons. "I guess she hasn't been in recently."

"What do they say?"

"Baron, we can't–"

"We'll apologise when she arrives," Baron snapped. The nerves were tightening into a sickening mix and right now he just needed to know she was safe. Perhaps these messages would hold the answers. "Toto, play the messages."

"I hope you know what you're doing," the bird muttered, but he pressed the required buttons.

"You have two new messages," the machine intoned. "Message one: _Miss Yoshioka, it's Mrs Miyamoto here, the school secretary. The school wishes to inform you that you are from leave until the incident from last night is resolved in an appropriate manner. You can understand why. We hope to see you after the holidays_."

Baron and Toto exchanged glances. _Incident?_ Baron immediately worried that Haru had injured herself – she was still prone to klutz attacks, even now – but quickly dismissed it. The woman's tone wasn't one of sympathy – except, perhaps, for the hint of it at the end – but rather one of dealing with an unpleasant topic. It almost sounded like Haru was in trouble for something.

The phone machine moved on to the other message, regardless of the many questions the first one had kicked up. The two Creations tuned into the second message, hopeful that it would fill a few of the gaps in.

"Message two: "_Hey, Haru – it's Kohaku! Yeah, um, so I heard what happened last night – I mean, how could I not?_" There was a bubble of nervous, awkward laughter from the young woman leaving the message. "_It's in all the local news. Yeah... so I don't know when you're going to get this... I mean, evidently you're not home right now... I imagine you're sort of stuck at the police station... but I just want you to know that the other teachers and I don't believe you did it and so we're sure this will all get sorted out. Um... yeah... so, if we don't see you before term ends, uh, Merry Christmas and have a great New Year, and hopefully we'll see you next term, right? Call me back when you can, and... yeah, we wish you luck._"

"Did what?" Toto asked. "And why would the police be involved?"

"I don't know." This would be the point where it would be especially helpful to be human. "Toto, do you know where the police station is?"

"Of course I do, but you're not thinking of–" Toto caught himself – of course Baron would. However intelligent his fellow Creation was, he had a certain habit of discarding that foresight when it came to his more improvised plans. Especially if Haru was involved. "Do you want to go now?" And then he added, although he expected it would make precious little difference, "The place might still be full of police."

"That, Toto, is somewhat indicated in the name of a police station."

"Alright, no need to get clever." Grudgingly he offered a wing and waited for Baron to climb on. "The sooner we can find Haru, the sooner we can clear up this mess." '_And the sooner you can relax_,' he mentally added.

"So what exactly do you plan on doing?" Toto asked once they were up in the air; below them skimmed the busy town, still bright with traffic and lights despite the falling night. "We can hardly barge right in and demand answers."

"I don't know." He hadn't thought that far ahead. Right now, answers were the main priority. "But we should be able to find a way in."

"Baron, it's a _police station_," Toto reminded him. "It won't exactly greet intruders with open doors."

"Human intruders, maybe not. But we are not your everyday trespasser." The low, wide building of the police station – a little run-down from the years, but still very much operable and in use. Toto dropped down and skimmed alongside the windows, glancing into the brightly-lit rooms for signs of their missing friend.

"Of course, this could just be a police issue," Toto commented. "Perhaps there was a burglary or something. I'm sure that whatever has happened, Haru is more than able to cope with it."

"I don't question that, but I would feel better knowing. Wait – isn't that Haru's friend? Miss... Hiromi, I believe. Toto, stop here."

"If you say so." For the second time that evening, Toto landed outside a window, this time landing on the low branches of a thick hawthorn bush. Baron gingerly stepped onto the thorny branch and edged towards the window. Someone had opened up the upper window earlier and now heated conversation could be heard leaking out.

"I don't care what you say – Haru is not – she would never – dammit, we saw it happen!" Haru's friend seemed to be struggling to put more than two words together, but the anger in her voice was more than clear. Her husband had his daughter wrapped up in his arms and where Hiromi was red with rage, he was uncannily pale.

"Please, we just want our son back and questioning Haru isn't going to get us any closer," he said, an empty calmness dropping into his tone. "She's told you everything she saw – what more do you want?"

The policeman he was talking to showed no change of expression. "Mr Tomoko, did you see anyone else in the room?"

"No, but if Haru–"

"Mrs Tomoko, what about you? Was there any indicator – at all – that someone had forcefully entered your home?"

"You mean except for our missing Michi?" Hiromi hissed. "I think that should stand for more than enough evidence. Why the–" she swore violently, ignoring her husband's attempts to placate her, and irately continued "–are you interrogating Haru when you should be searching the room for any clues for whoever did this? They must have left something. I've seen the shows – you should be able to do some forensics or something, right? Fibres or fingerprints or blood or something–"

The policeman looked like he was faintly regretting taking on this case. "All that takes time – it is difficult to distinguish between potential leads and fabrics or fingerprints that belong to yourselves," he stiffly informed them. "Right now, our biggest lead is your friend. I'm afraid that in many situations where a child goes missing, the culprit is known to the parents–"

"You cannot honestly believe Haru is the kidnapper," Tsuge said.

"Why not, sir?"

"She's their godmother," Hiromi snapped. "She's looked after these kids since they were born – she would never do anything to harm them – or us – and I promise you that every moment you take to interrogate Haru is another moment you're wasting when you could be looking for the real criminal!"

"And I promise you that we are doing everything to locate your son," the policeman coolly told them. Baron briefly wondered how long this debate had been going on.

"I guess that answers where Haru is," Toto whispered. "But what's she doing on suspicion of kidnapping?"

Baron stepped towards the window. One hand absent-mindedly rose to rest against the glass and he leant against it, staring inwards. Toto saw the grim line of determination set across his friend's face.

"Baron, it'd be mere folly to go in there. You can't–"

Just as quickly, the grim determination fell away, and Baron was left feeling more than a little foolish. He was going to sneak in there and – do what? Break Haru out? Like that would solve anything. He couldn't tangle in human politics, not without getting her into further trouble.

"No, of course," he said aloud. "Our best chance to help Haru would be to locate the true kidnapper and return the child." He looked back to Toto. "Do you think you know where Miss Haru's friend lives?"

"You know my memory, Baron. But you heard them – the place must be crawling in police."

"Now, maybe. But when we're deep into night, I suspect the police count will be significantly lower." He smiled wanly, his eyes setting into ready purpose as he tilted his top hat back into place. "And they won't be looking to the skies."

ooOoo

Of course, they should have remembered the fact that the Tomoko family would still be living there, but they weren't going to enter their son's room any time soon. The police had taped the door up, with strict instructions to 'preserve the scene of the crime' and, really, they weren't to move much round in the rest of the house. That didn't stop the mother from pausing by the doorway before ushering her other child away, and – unsurprisingly – the whole family was sleeping in the same room tonight.

Baron watched the situation unfold, waiting for them to head to bed before dropping down towards the window and letting himself and the rest of the Bureau in.

"Remember, Muta; please keep quiet. The last thing we need is to bring the family running in," Baron reminded the cat.

Muta snorted and scrambled through the window. He had only reached the first floor of the house with Toto's help and he always became a little irritable after flying – mostly because Toto spent the entire time threatening to drop him. "Sheesh, Baron; give me a little faith. Ick." He wrinkled his nose immediately upon entering. "This place stinks of fear. What happened here?"

"That's what we're hoping to find out."

"How, exactly? Detective work ain't exactly our forte."

Baron wanted to dispute that but – standing there and having no clue how to approach this mystery – he couldn't summon the energy. It wasn't that he didn't trust the human police force to do their work; it was simply that he didn't trust them to do it _right_. He turned to the other Creation. "Toto, what do you see for magic traces? I can sense something, but it's..." Blocked. By the stink of fear, as Muta had commented on.

"Hang on." Toto hopped across the room, flapping to the bedside and being careful not to disturb the upturned bedcovers. The last thing they needed was the police panicking over someone upsetting the crime scene. "This whole room is soaked in dark spirit magic – but it looks like it was a while ago. Twenty-four hours or so, I'd say."

"So last night," Baron summarised. "I suspect that will be when the child disappeared. Are we dealing with fearlings?"

"I... don't know. Whatever left these traces, they were strong. To have this much still retaining after a day – and sunlight usually disperses dark magic – I'd have to say we're dealing with something bigger than a fearling..."

"How big?"

Toto's dark eyes glanced to Baron. And then glanced away. And Baron knew the answer before it left the bird's beak.

"Mother Nature."

**ooOoo**

**A/N: I am working on the twelfth chapter as you read. Sorry for the four-day delay, but I had to travel back from university over the weekend, which involved much travelling, packing, sleeping, and general panicking, so you can imagine how much fun **_**that**_** was. Plus, you know, family fun. Well, I say fun... I guess it's not Christmas until you've had a family argument and at least three relatives aren't talking to each other, right?**

**Anyway, Merry Christmas. You're far too patient and kind for me and I love you all. **

**Cat.**


	12. Friday 12th December

_"I'd say Pitch is making a tactical change in his plans." _

Bunnymund.

x

Friday 12th December 2014

The Guardians were gathered in an impromptu meeting when the portal opened up in the Globe Room and the Bureau stalked out, Baron at the head. After much searching back at the Sanctuary, he had finally located a transporter crystal and set it up to take them to the North Pole – it hadn't taken as much time as Baron had been expecting, but it was still too long.

"I take it you've had no luck with Mother Nature." His words weren't a question, but a cold observation.

"No," Nicholas St. North admitted. "But we are searching everywhere." He spread his arms in a visualisation of how expansive their search was. "When Mother Nature shows her head, we shall find her!"

"Really?" The cat Creation strode straight up to the huge man, and Baron's stature was even less when in stark contrast with the spirit. "Then tell me why she was able to steal away a child from a human home," he growled. "Tell me what you're doing about that. Tell me how you had no idea that had gone on. Tell me how you will stop this from happening again."

'_Tell me how you let this happen to Haru._'

He didn't know whether his last, unspoken question was to the Guardians, or to himself. To how he could have let his guard down enough for a child to be stolen from the very house Haru was in at the time. He had no delusions that she was enjoying her little stint at the police station.

"What?" Bunnymund said. "She's taken a child? When?"

"Wednesday evening," Baron hissed. "Now, tell me, why would she be interested in taking a single child from their home?" '_Tell me why it had to be the home that Haru was in. Why, out of all the homes all across the world, it was somewhere _so close_ to home_.'

"You have to believe us," Toothania said, flying over to the unmoving Creation. "We had no idea that this had happened or we would have never allowed it to–"

"I do believe you. But now it _has_ happened, what are you going to do?" Baron demanded icily.

"More to the point," Muta grunted, "what is _she_ going to do to the kid?"

"He's right. What would Mother Nature want with a child?"

The Guardians glanced between each other; North shrugged uselessly. "We do not know."

"Wait – maybe we do," Tooth said. She skittered back a wingbeat as her fellow Guardians all turned their attention strictly onto her. She glanced nervously between them. "I mean, Pitch took a child once before – several years ago... He was planning on making a... a..."

"A Winter Princess," North finished slowly.

"That blighter!"

"And, just for the rest of us who aren't familiar with this term," Jack added after a dubious moment, and gestured to the Bureau, "and I assume these guys aren't any the wiser, could you fill us in on that?" He chuckled uneasily, not entirely sure what to make of the turn of events. "What's a Winter Princess?"

"A Winter Princess – or Prince – is a person, often a child, who has been purposely infected with a fearling," Tooth explained. "There are plenty of other names – fearling princess, darkling princess, winter child... and it would result in a being who could control the shadows like Pitch – and now Mother Nature."

"So is Mother Nature a Winter Princess?"

"Technically," North said. "It is... grand term."

"Even Pitch could have been called a Winter Prince," Bunnymund said. "But no one really uses those titles. I think Pitch made up the name himself, really; it would have fitted the way he was so full of 'imself."

"So why take a child for this role?" Baron demanded. "What good does that do? Surely she would have benefited from turning one of you." Not a child. Not a defenceless little three-year-old child, who couldn't even tie his shoes or reach up to his father's waist yet.

"Winter Children are stronger when they take the fearling voluntarily," Tooth whispered. "A child would be much easier to trick into willingly accepting a fearling than any of us. However, any child that has come into contact with spirit – or Creation, I guess – magic could be a lot more powerful, I suppose, which narrows the selection process..."

"Haru has spent quite a lot of time around the Bureau," Toto noted. "She would have picked up a lot of wayward magic from coming into the Sanctuary; it's quite possible the boy had picked up some from being around her."

"So, what you're saying is that her time with us made all this possible," Baron murmured. For not the first time, he wondered whether it would have been wiser to shut the Bureau's doors to Haru. And, for not the first time, he could never imagine doing such a thing. But now he wondered whether it would have been better for all of them if he had.

"Is no one's fault," North reassured. "You had no way to know."

"But I should have been more careful."

"That's the hindsight talking, mate. It's a bugger."

"We will get the child back," Tooth said. "She won't have turned him just yet."

"And how do you know that?" Baron asked dryly.

The Guardians glanced to each other, and Baron saw the truth. They didn't. But then North chuckled uneasily and patted his stomach. "I can feel it in belly." And the other Guardians laughed awkwardly with the humour of habit and Baron felt no more the better for it. If they failed, Haru would never trust him again and – more importantly – they would lose an innocent child.

ooOoo

In the darkness of the night, Mother Nature floated gently in the winter cold and looked on. She was blackness against black; a shadow among shadows, so deep in the darkness that the Guardians had no way of seeing her. She smiled thinly at the gathering, and her father's steed watched uneasily beside her. He neighed and nudged at her side.

"Shush, Onyx. This is far too entertaining."

The nightmare chuffed nervously and nudged her again.

Mother Nature gave a short laugh at whatever words the creature had given. "Now, why ever would I do that? It takes far too much effort to make a Winter Prince – at least, it would for the sake of Prince so small as our Michi with so little Creation magic rubbed off on him. No... I'm going for a much better... prize."

She smiled and her teeth flashed eerily white in the blackness.

"All I'm doing right now is... setting up the pieces."

ooOoo

Haru couldn't really blame the police for their suspicions. After all, they only had her word for it that she hadn't been the one to take Michi – still, there were only so many times she could insist that Michi was gone by the time she had arrived, and there was precious little she could add. Not unless she wanted to be found not-guilty on account of insanity.

Even she wasn't entirely sure that Mother Nature had been the thief. A day later and the memories were a little fuzzy from over-analysis and tiredness.

But all the knowledge in the world that she was innocent was useless without proof. Until someone found a clue – until someone caught the kidnapper – until Michi was safely back in his mother's arms... Until then, she would be their main suspect. And, if indeed Mother Nature was the culprit, then who could tell when – or even _if_ – Michi would be found.

If this dragged out for long enough and they found no evidence that she wasn't the guilty party, they would have to let her go, right?

And still she felt uneasy.

Worse still, she was beginning to grow afraid.

And fear had brought the fearlings to her doorstep – or, to be more precise, to her cellstep. As she lay on the bed in her cell, the shadows were flickering just beyond her bars. She tried not to look, trying to remind herself that they were only there to frighten – not harm. After all, Baron had told her that while fearlings loved to feed on childhood terrors, they weren't too picky as to not snack on the slightly sour fear of adults. Of course, adults couldn't see them, but they could sense them. They could still feel the drain on their energy and confidence, sucking on their fear and intensifying it.

She clenched her fists and rolled onto her side, putting her back to the creatures. She closed her eyes and blocked out the nervous thoughts skittering across her mind. And once sleep did come, it was fraught with nightmares. With monsters and fears and thoughts she thought she had boxed up long ago.

And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, the nightmares began to lift. She exhaled and the dreamscape changed from the dark shadows to that of the warm Bureau.

She was still dreaming, but it was no longer a nightmare.

"Haru?"

The brunette turned, and her face split into a relieved smile when she saw the Creation. Even if it was only a dream, it was a break from the fears. "Baron." The grin widened. "I don't even care if I'm only dreaming; it's good to see you."

"You too, Haru." The Creation smiled back, but the expression was only half-hearted. "And, yes, it is me."

Haru opened her mouth to reply, and then paused. "Do you mean that as in you're a dream version saying that, or is this some kind of funny communication thing?" She approached him and prodded his chest curiously. "Are you real?"

"Technically, no," he answered. "But, yes, you are talking to the real Baron." He glanced down to where she was still absent-mindedly poking his vest. "Haru..."

"Ah! Sorry–!" She quickly stopped and backed away. But she continued to sneak slightly bewildered, slightly amazed looks in his direction. "So... um, how are you doing this? Not that I don't appreciate being able to talk and all, but..." She gave his chest another prod for good measure. "You have to understand that this is slightly creepy."

"Understood."

"Okay. Good." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't do this unless you need to in future, okay? I'm not sure how I feel about my dreams being invaded. Anyway – explanations."

"Well, do you remember how it was mentioned that Creations are linked to the Sandman?"

"The Guardian of Dreams, right – oh..."

"Yes. Well, that doesn't come without certain... perks." Baron smiled again, and then the smile disappeared. She saw nervousness enter his eyes instead. "Haru... the real reason I came tonight to talk like this is because we need to know what happened on Wednesday night." He paused. "The night the child was taken."

"You know about that?"

"We came to see why we hadn't seen you, and we overheard some of what happened at the police station in the process," Baron told her. He didn't tell her the whole story – perhaps he would admit their little detour to her home later on. When things were a little bit more under control. "We have a theory as to the events of that night, but we were hoping that you could..."

"Fill you in," Haru finished.

Baron gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry to bring up what must be a sensitive subject, but we need to know."

"Well, you can stop wondering. As far as I'm aware, it was Mother Nature."

She watched his expression as she dropped the bombshell and, although his face did fall, there was none of the shock she had been expecting. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"We had our theories."

"Then tell me why this happened," she demanded, and Baron was forcefully reminded of how he had reacted with the Guardians earlier. "Tell me why..." Her face crumpled, and where there had been anger in Baron, there was only sadness in Haru. "Why... she took Michi."

"We... only really have a theory," Baron mumbled.

"Then theorise!" Haru snapped. She caught the sudden break into anger – anger Baron hadn't seen coming – and reeled it in just as fast. "Sorry, but I'm... I'm tired, and scared, and I just want Michi to be home safe."

"I promise that I will do everything in my power–"

"To do what? As you said, Mother Nature is... far too powerful for any of us. Perhaps even the Guardians, if she takes them on individually." She closed her eyes, rubbing at her face. It was amazing how tired she could be in her own dreams. "Baron, what do we do? And why did she have to take Michi? I know that sounds awfully selfish of me, but I can't help it. He's like a son to me – out of all the children in the world, why did Mother Nature choose him?"

Her dark eyes stared stubbornly at Baron in such a way that indicated she had a suspicion she didn't want to entertain.

"Is it anything to do with me? Like, did she choose Michi just out of... _spite_? Because, otherwise, the chance that she would choose Michi out of all the children... Surely it's too much to simply be a coincidence?" She scowled. "Say something, Baron."

There was a silence – not so long, but long enough to the waiting Haru – and then, "Yes."

"_Yes_?" she echoed icily. "What does that mean?"

"It means... Mother Nature's choice wasn't entirely... random..." Baron admitted.

"Then give me a reason."

"Mother Nature... intends to make a Winter Prince, we believe. This involves... turning someone by intentionally infecting them with a fearling; the most powerful Winter Children are the ones turned willingly, and who have been exposed to Guardian magic. The latter... significantly narrows down her options."

"But Michi hasn't had anything to do with the Guardians – if anything, Kasumi's had more to do with them, so–"

"Creation magic is a variation of Guardian magic," Baron said.

Haru hesitated. Her face, despite the dream circumstances in which they were in, paled. "I've picked up a little magic from my time at the Bureau, haven't I?" she whispered. It wasn't usable magic to her, but it clung to her skin, her clothes, her hair; Toto had once commented that her form was so soaked in latent magic and humanity that she was unmistakable. "It's rubbed off onto Michi and Kasumi in my time with them, hasn't it?"

"It... is possible."

"It's not just possible," Haru snapped, a little harsher than intended. "That's what you think happened, isn't it? That's your theory."

The Creation could only nod.

"But I've... I've spent so much time teaching the other kids – are they in danger too? Have I put them all at risk?"

"We believe Mother Nature is only capable of turning one child; it takes far too much energy and magic to turn a child, and – regardless – the Guardians are now looking out for her more than ever."

"Not that it made any difference the first time," Haru muttered bitterly. "You know what, Baron? When I found the Bureau again after university and my teacher training, and you asked whether I wanted to help with cases..."

"And you thanked me, but said that your life was already busy enough," Baron said. "Yes, I remember."

"Well, that may not have been the truth. I mean, it was truthful, but... it wasn't the whole truth. I... rejected your offer because, yes, I didn't want the struggles of a double life, but also... I was afraid. Not for myself – but for those around me. I knew what kind of scraps the Bureau got into; I knew that you had picked up a few enemies along the way, and some of them wouldn't be below finding leverage in those closest to you..." In fact, there had been cases where the Bureau had shut off all communication with her entirely, to keep her safe. "And I knew I could never put my friends and family at risk like that. And now you're telling me that just seeing you was enough to put Michi into the hands of Mother Nature?"

"Haru, please; if I had had any idea that your presence would be enough to put those you care about at risk..."

What? What would they have done? Would Haru have walked away from the Bureau – forever? Maybe. She would have kept coming if it were only her own life on the line, but... she would never put others willingly at risk.

It was Haru who first broke the silence.

"You're... going to get Michi back, aren't you?" It was only just a question; the tone verged almost onto empty observation.

"We're going to do our best."

"Yes, well... when this is over..." Suddenly she wasn't looking at him anymore; suddenly she was staring out of the windows of the dream Bureau and she looked like her next words were going to cost her. "When this is over... I think we'd better call it a day."

"What... do you mean by that, Haru?"

She smiled weakly, but the smile didn't reach her dark eyes. "I've been lucky, Baron, to have had the chance to know you – and the whole Bureau – but it seems our luck has finally run out. If... leaving the Cat Bureau behind will enable me to have an ordinary life – and to spent it safely with those I love – then I guess that's what I'll have to do. I can't keep doing this – I can't keep putting others at risk for my sake. And I can't leave my human life behind."

"I understand, Miss Haru."

Her smile saddened as she noticed the unusual formality. The first sign of distancing. "Once we get Michi back – or once... you know, this is all over – then I suppose it'll be time for us to go our separate ways."

The edge of consciousness started to tug on the dream; sleep began to slip away as Haru felt the pull of wakefulness gain its grip on her. Before it could fully take her, however, she embraced her friend.

"Goodbye, Baron."

**ooOoo**

**A/N: Every year I say I'm going to be more prepared for next year's Christmas special, and every year this happens. In fact, I think I'm getting worse... Anyhow, sorry about the delay - I have a plethora of excuses, not all of them excusable - and just know that I will never abandon any story... I just take my own sweet time writing it. **

**Thanks for all the patience, and Merry Christmas!**

**Cat. **


End file.
